


Echoes of Your Heartlines

by Bre



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-12 16:00:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 58
Words: 79,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4485846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bre/pseuds/Bre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My ficlet collection for <b>Season Four</b>.</p><p>Includes speculation fics, wish fics, canon fics, elaboration fics, pretty-much-everything-related-to-Season-Four fics...</p><p>This collection is rated <i>Explicit</i>.</p><p>(For 4x09: <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/5407415">Missing Moments (4x09 Dark Waters)</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're Not Your Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous asked: ok but i just headcanoned that every time oliver feels his guilt spike/remembers his time when he had to be in the league that felicity kisses him on the arrowhead mark on his back. She'll wrap her arms around him from behind, press her body against his and kiss that spot to let him know he's not there anymore and she loves him no matter what.

It took two months, seventeen days and roughly fourteen hours…

_“You know, Lyla’s been getting after me about having more ‘couple’ friends, whatever the hell that means.”  
_

_Oliver froze in the middle of unzipping his jacket. After a second of silence, he continued, pulling it all the way off, the sound of rough leather and the clink of Diggle’s gear being put away the only things filling the air. Oliver_ _pinched his lips into a thin white line, taking a slow breath before he moved to hang his jacket on the mannequin, offering a nonchalant, “Oh?”_

_“Yeah.” Oliver glanced back. Diggle stared at him, his face giving away nothing; it didn’t show the steady level of strain that still existed between them, the hard-edged comments over the comm, the unanswered questions, the awkward silences… “Do you guys wanna come over for dinner?”_

_…_ and it took one week, three days and about four hours for her and Oliver to find themselves standing in front of the Diggle’s door.

Oliver lifted his hand to knock, hesitating for a second before going in for the kill… but right before his knuckles touched the door, he paused. She watched his hand, watched it shake a little, watched him move to knock again before he froze, again. 

Oliver finally pulled his hand back. 

Felicity looked up at him. He stared at the door, his face a mask of memories; he didn’t have to tell her that he wasn’t seeing it as it was now, but as it had been when he’d walked in there with the League, when he’d infiltrated his best friend’s home as Al Sah-him, taking his wife against her will and leaving their toddler daughter alone.

Oliver’s brow furrowed, a storm of emotions sweeping over his face before he grimaced, bowing his head.

He’d talked about it, a little, during one of their many nights laying in bed, arms wrapped around each other, a dull lamp on the nightstand the only illumination of the ceiling… the night he told her about the League, about coming to Starling, he’d had his head resting on her naked chest, his arms wrapped around her, his voice partially muffled as he described what he’d done, _why_ he’d done it…

And about Diggle, what he’d said… and that he’d been right.

They were _broken,_ and neither of them were making any real effort to fix it. They were more uneasy acquaintances now, partners because they fought the same cause - that was it.

But then Diggle had invited them over, for dinner. 

As friends.

It was a step, an important one, and now it was Oliver’s turn to take the next one.

“Oliver…” she breathed. She pressed her face into his shoulder, breathing him in - he smelled like _home_ , like Oliver, mixed in with the leather jacket he wore and the distinct smell of Fall starting to fill the air outside.  


Felicity didn’t say anything - she didn’t have to - as she slipped her hand under the back of his jacket, skimming his back until she found the scar she’d memorized long ago - the arrowhead that had been burned into him, a symbol of his new identity within the League. 

_“I don’t hate my scars,” he whispered. “I used to, but now they’re just… there, they’re things that happened to me, things I survived… but not that one. That one’s just… it’s an ugly reminder of… who I had to be.”_

_“Oliver…”_  


_“What I’m capable of, what I had to do.”_

_“No,” Felicity replied, shaking her head, ignoring the tear that slipped from the corner of her eye, streaking into her hair. She kissed the crown of his head, her heart clenching when she felt one of his tears on her breast. “No, Oliver, it’s not that, not at all. It is a reminder, but not of that - it’s a reminder of what you had to overcome, what you had to go through to get here, to who you are now.”_

Felicity’s fingers traced the scar through his shirt before she pressed her hand over it.

_“You’re not your scars, Oliver, not any of them.”_  


Oliver sighed, his shoulders falling as he leaned into her and Felicity shifted until she was behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly, pressing her lips to his scar. He stiffened, just like he always did when she kissed that particular scar, before melting against her.

It was _her_ reminder to him that the past was the past, that he wasn’t that person, that he’d never been that person despite the mark on his body…

That it wouldn’t be easy, repairing the damage, but he could do it. 

_He would._

Oliver’s hands covered hers where they laid across his stomach, holding her just as tightly.  


A minute later, Oliver knocked. 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/125540117119/ok-but-i-just-headcanoned-that-every-time-oliver)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	2. Sleeping In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sleeping in with Felicity was _amazing_.

The room was _bright_ \- that was the first thing Oliver was aware of when he woke up. The sun was hot where it shined through the open window, flooding their room with _day_. 

Oliver frowned, shifting just enough to shove his face back into his pillow to get back some of the wonderful darkness they’d fallen asleep to, but it was too damn bright, and too damn hot. The sheet and comforter were tangled at his feet, most of it on the floor on his side, meaning she’d kicked it off before him.

With a soft groan, Oliver scooted over until he ran into her.

Felicity didn’t budge.

It was Saturday, and the first day since they’d gotten back to Starling City - _Star City_  as some were calling it now - that they’d been able to sleep past the sun rising. Every single morning they had risen when the sky was still filled with stars, still dark, and gone to bed well past the sun setting.

He didn’t think he’d have missed sleeping in so much, but he did; it was one of his favorite things about their road trip apparently, one that he wished he hadn’t taken for granted.

Sleeping in with Felicity was _amazing_.

Oliver didn’t bother opening his eyes as he turned, reaching blindly for her. She was still naked, very, very naked, from when they’d fallen into bed around two in the morning. He smiled - they had yet to go to sleep without making love to each other since they’d even left Starling City in the first place. It didn’t matter how tired they were, what had happened during the day, or if they were fighting… they still found the time - it was an unspoken need that ran between them, one they both reveled in. 

When he’d pulled out of her this morning, rolling to his side and taking her with him, he’d been greeted with a soft, content snore, her body humming with pleasure and warmth. She’d snuggled into his arms, already dead to the world. Oliver had smiled, kissing her forehead, his eyes slipping shut… 

Five seconds later, he’d joined her.

His hand found her hip, her nicely warm hip, and he pushed himself closer to her where she slept curled around a pillow. Oliver wrapped his arm around her waist and buried his face into the center of her back, pulling her closer until he was settled.

She barely made a sound.

Two weeks ago they’d driven back into the city limits, and they’d instantly hit the ground running, It had been jarring - both the almost culture shock of being back, having to get used to it no longer being just _them_ , as well as how easy it had been to slip back into the flow of things. They’d both missed it - Felicity had been much more vocal about it than he had, until they’d gotten back at least.

Still… he missed _this_. Waking up to a lazy morning with nothing planned save for lounging, getting up whenever they wanted, cooking brunch and going for a run on the beach, only going out to bring dinner home.

He had missed home - he’d missed Thea, more than he could say, and he’d missed Diggle, despite the still-obvious invisible thread of strain between them; Lyla, Sara, Laurel… he’d missed his city, missed protecting it…

But _this_ …

He needed this, he needed her.

Maybe they’d make this a thing - they had to have _one day_ , at least; he needed to wrap himself around her and just _exist_  with her.

Felicity mumbled something about spreadsheets and shoelaces, rubbing her face against her pillow, stretching; without waking up, she snuggled back against him before settling in again. Oliver smiled, hugging her closer, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder blade, already giving into the gentle tugs of sleep pulling him back under. 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/125698499009/sleeping-in-olicity-s4-t)
> 
>  
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	3. Cracked Jaws & Bitten Tongues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Anonymous asked: Bre! Can you write a prompt where Oliver hurt his jaw and sounds adorable, and Felicity/everyone can't stop laughing!

  
  
(gif courtesy [lieutenantsmoak](http://lieutenantsmoak.tumblr.com/post/126527020508/stephen-hurts-himself-while-in-training))

The instant he opened the door to their new HQ, he was assaulted with the _chatter_. A lot of damn chatter. What the hell was everyone still doing there, it was nearly midnight. He’d specifically stayed out so the only person left would be Felicity.

Oliver clenched his jaw and instantly regretted it as a pain burst in his face, making him inhale in a hard hiss.

He wasn’t in the mood to see anyone tonight.

Nearly falling off a roof without his bow was enough to warrant a shitty night. Still getting used to his new suit and where he’d stashed things as a result of his brilliant idea to rearrange his weapons was enough to warrant one. Barely grabbing the edge of the building while his feet slid on the crumbling brick was enough.

But all that had been fine until his jaw had slammed down on the edge of the wall before his fingers managed to grab the edge, narrowly saving himself from falling over forty stories to a very certain death on the very hard concrete below.

It felt like the wall had cracked his jaw right down the middle, the force of it echoing through his entire skull. His teeth had slammed down on his tongue, blood instantly flooding his mouth as his hands grappled to keep himself from falling as all his attention was on what felt like a very severed tongue.

It was still intact, but it was swollen to high hell, and he was not in the mood to even _look_ at another human being, much less talk to one.

“Oliver, is that you?”

His eyes slipped shut at the sound of her voice, his shoulders falling. Alright, he could handle one, but only one: her. She’d always had that ability - she just had to touch him, say his name softly, look at him a certain way - and he felt _better_.

That’s what he wanted, he wanted to go home, get in bed and curl himself around her and _sleep_.

But that was _it_.

“Oliver?”

He opened his eyes to see her shadowy form filling the doorway and he smiled, despite himself. He was already moving towards her before he could stop himself, just needing to feel her arms wrapped around him, just for a moment.

Felicity smiled, moving in to meet him.

“Hi you,” she said gently, cupping his face and pressing her lips to his. He didn’t even think to stop her, and he immediately cursed himself for that. Oliver tried to stiffen, tried to block the pain before she noticed anything, but the instant he shifted differently, she knew something was wrong. Felicity yanked back to look up at him, still holding his face. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

Oliver moved to respond but even that hurt his entire face; it made his tongue actually _burn_.

Instead he shook his head, cupping her face in return and gave her another kiss, but she was having none of it.

“You’re not talking,” Felicity said, examining his face. “And I know I’m usually the talker in this relationship, but you usually say something… You look fine, I don’t see any boo-boo’s.”

Oliver cracked a smile, and then he winced.

“Okay, what did you do?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, leaning in to nuzzle her face, but it came out sounding like, “I’m fiihhe.”

Felicity froze. “What?”

Oliver didn’t have to see her face to know she was smiling - he could hear it in her question. He pulled back and leveled her with a hard look, and it turned into a glare when she pinched her lips to stop herself from smiling.

“It no’ fuhhy,” he said.

She couldn’t stop the laugh this time. It burst out of her, ringing in the doorway, and Oliver stepped back, forcing her to drop her hands.

“Oliver, wait,” she said, grabbing for him again - she couldn’t even _speak_ without giggling \- but he dodged her, moving around her into the main area. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you, I swear!”

“Oh, yeah, you’e jus’ laughi’g wit’ me,” he replied sarcastically over his shoulder - it didn’t _sound_ sarcastic, and that only pissed him off more - but his annoyance did ring loud and clear even around his swollen tongue.

It took him a second to realize his mistake.

Diggle, Thea, Laurel and Lyla all waited in the main room, and they all heard him.

Nobody moved. They all stared at him, and he saw the instant their faces cracked.

He held his finger up, glaring at them. “No’ a wor’.”

Thea was the first to crack, followed quickly by Lyla, and a silent rumble from Diggle as Laurel grinned. Felicity appeared at his side, her hand landing on his back and when he looked at her, when he saw her laughing too, he huffed in exasperation, shrugging her hand off and heading to the back.

“Cat got your tongue, Ollie?” Thea asked, and he made a face at her, because _really?_

“F’hck off,” he said, sending Thea into another round of laughter.

“Guys, stop, it’s not funny,” Felicity said as she followed him - _he could still hear the smile in her voice_.

“Go ‘way,” he said over his shoulder, but that didn’t deter her. She still followed him to the sound of everyone’s giggles until they faded completely, until he reached the bathroom in the far back corner. He turned to look at her; he just wanted to go _home_. “Fe’hicity, I’m ser’ous.”

“Oh, my poor baby,” Felicity said, shaking her head and he glared at her. She smiled, invading his bubble and cupping his face gently. He wanted to push her away, he wanted to give her the cold shoulder for laughing at him… but because he couldn’t stop his stupid self, he let her. His head fell into her hands and she smiled up at him, her eyes roving over his face. “Are you alright?”

Oliver sighed, wanting to not respond because she deserved it, but at the same time…

It was _Felicity._

After a second, he nodded.

“Good,” she said, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. “You wanna go get some ice cream and go home? Maybe tell me what happened after we get that swelling down?”

Oliver nodded again, almost pitifully, and she chuckled, shaking her head. She gave him a soft kiss, and he whimpered, making her chuckle again.

“You are the cutest person in the entire world, Oliver Queen.”

He made a face.

He wasn’t _cute_.

“And I love you.”

Oliver looked at her, his heart swelling at the absolute love shining back at him. The fact that she could laugh at him, that she was laughing at him, it only made it shine brighter.

He smiled, nodding. “I ‘ove you too.” He kissed her before an idea struck him, and he knew the instant the words starting coming out that he’d probably hit his head a little too hard. “Ca’ I ‘ick th’ ice c’eam off your be’ly?”

Felicity laughed.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/126535800519/bre-can-you-write-a-prompt-where-oliver-hurt-his)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!


	4. Nights at the Round Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the photo of the new Arrow lair for Season 4 - Oliver and Felicity find a very good use for it. (Also written in honor National Eat Her to Orgasm Week.)

The table had arrived around 2 a.m. that morning, in pieces, per Oliver’s request. It had been delivered in ridiculously large boxes to the underground parking lot under Palmer Tech once she’d given the delivery guys the go-ahead to come in, the security cameras set on loop. A few hours later, Oliver had started to drag them down, unwilling to even let her touch one to help, until Diggle had arrived. With a quiet huff and a roll of his eyes, he’d pulled his jacket off and started helping, muttering under his breath the entire time about ‘jackasses’ and ‘stoic bastards.’

Despite the tense air radiating between them, Oliver and Diggle fell into a rhythm, the natural rhythm between two people who knew each other, who worked well together, and they had the table put together in no time. The chairs were then brought down, completing another part of the new lair.

The table was _gorgeous_.

It was nearly one in the morning that night when everyone had gone home, leaving only her and Oliver.

Felicity shut down her computers, giving them a soft pat and a quiet smile, nodding when she heard the telltale whir of them powering down for the night. She stood up, stretching her back, hearing a soft crack and feeling a pop that sent a little thrill of relief down her spine.

“So not used to sitting like this anymore,” she whispered. “Stupid beds in those stupid hotels being horizontal.”

Oliver was in the opposite corner, putting away his new artillery \- he’d been like a kid in a candy shop when a large portion of the Queen funds had finally been released. The money had sat in frozen accounts for longer than anyone could have guessed, and he’d been a little too _distracted_ over the last few months - understatement - to realize that with Moira gone and the worst of the fallout from what had happened over, he now had the ability to gain access to the part of the fortune that existed in a few of the dozens of off-shore accounts his parents had set up over the years.

He’d been rather _generous_ with the new lair, and it showed.

Felicity hummed under her breath, switching the light off over her new workstation. She headed straight for the new table. Maybe it was because it was an actual conference table in a part of their lair designed for conferencing, or maybe it was that she wouldn’t have to worry about the team hovering over her when they wanted to meet, or maybe it was because it was _glass_ , making it look all official-like… she wasn’t sure _why_ she loved this table so much, but she did.

Pushing one of the chairs out of the way, Felicity ran her hand over the smooth surface. It even _felt_ new.

She didn’t hear him coming up until Oliver wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, nuzzling his face against the side of her neck. Felicity sighed, immediately leaning back against him, leaning her head to the side to give him more access as she covered his arms with hers, cradling him back.

“You doing okay?” she whispered.

Oliver nodded, his stubble scraping at her. A few thugs had gotten in a few too many good hits - someone had to be actually _training_ these people with knives, because it was ridiculous that they managed to not only cut his cheek and his temple, but clip his eyebrow - with literal _throwing_ _knives_ \- leaving behind rugged scrapes and slices that made it look like he’d gotten into a fight with a cat.

“I’m fine,” he replied, his voice muffled against her skin. He left out the, ‘You?’ she knew he wanted to ask - he’d gotten that answer when she’d launched herself into his arms the minute he entered the lair after the mission. Instead he looked at the table as well. “You like it?”

“It’s very pretty,” Felicity said. “Very official too. It’s almost like we’re an official crime-fighting team now - we have a conference table. To conference about things.”

Oliver chuckled, pressing his face into her neck again. She shivered slightly, her eyes fluttering shut. He pressed a soft trail down the column of her neck, standing a little taller to bend over her, dragging his tongue over her collarbone. She let out a breathy little whimper that made him hold her tighter.

“You know,” Oliver said, his warm breath dancing over the spots his tongue had touched, making her shiver again, goosebumps fanning across her skin almost painfully. “We’re all alone.”

“Yeah?”

He pushed the strap of her dress to the side and sunk his teeth into her shoulder lightly.

Felicity gasped, her back arching, a streak of need shooting through her, headed straight for her center. The goosebumps spread. He continued, her nipples hardening as laved the spot he’d bitten with wet kisses, moving back up her neck…

She shivered again, making her nipples harden even more, pressing agonizingly into the stiff lace of her bra.

“And we have this perfectly good table right here,” he continued. He walked them forward until her thighs ran into it. The chilly metal bit into her naked skin, a sharp contrast to his hot mouth.

“We do,” she agreed. Her words ended in an tormented groan when his hands started moving. His fingers grasped at her tightly, one hand sliding up her chest, palming one of her breasts while the other dropped down, fisting the flowy bottom half of her dress.

He pulled it up, sending a shaft of cool air crashing into her hot skin.

“We need to make sure it’s… sturdy,” Felicity whispered breathlessly, and he nodded. “So sturdy. For all the… all the conferencing… and such.”

“And such,” Oliver agreed, nodding… and then he moved back, just enough to spin her in his arms.

Felicity’s legs already felt like jelly - like standing was going to be a serious problem - but he caught her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

His lips slanted over hers.

The kiss was hard, powerful… it radiated through her in waves of heat that left her wanting so much more. She moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck, lifting herself to get closer.

Oliver wasted no time backing them up against the table again - she yelped when the cold surface touched her heated thighs once more, but he swallowed the sound, not giving her a moment’s reprieve as he lifted her up onto it.

Oliver pushed her legs apart, hooking his hands under her knees and lifting them up as he pressed himself over her, making her mewl when she felt the hard bulge pushing through his jeans. He ate up every little noise she made, his lips demanding, bending her back over the table.

Felicity fisted her hands in  his shirt for leverage, wrapping her legs around his waist. Oliver growled his approval, and thrust against her.

“Yes,” she gasped. She nodded rapidly, kissing him again and again, mumbling “Pants. Pants off.” Oliver cut her off with another searing kiss, his hands falling down to her hips to tug her closer. Felicity cried out, arching into him for _more_ , his fingers digging into her so hard it hurt. “Oh god, Oliver… don’t stop…”

“Never,” he breathed, making her shiver. “Never…”

“Pants,” she moaned again. “Pants off…”

He just shook his head, his lips finding hers again.

And then he sunk down to his knees before her.

“Oh god, Oliver, please…”

“Shh,” he whispered, his large hand falling on her stomach. He pushed her down and Felicity laid back, moving to wrap her legs around his shoulders, her back arching off the cool glass, but Oliver stopped her. His hands - god, they were so hot, so warm against her skin, he felt so good… a rush of arousal drenched her panties, and she moaned his name again, running her hands over the table for purchase… but there was nothing, nothing to hold on to.

“Oliver…”

“You smell so good, Felicity,” he said, his voice ragged. He leaned over her, pressing his face to her stomach, kissing her through the fabric, dragging his way down her body until he reached right where she needed him. “God, I need you so badly, Felicity, I always need you.”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, yes, yes…”

“Felicity,” he whispered, again.

He always whispered her name like that, like he couldn’t believe it was real - like he was making sure he wasn’t dreaming, that she was _there_ , that they were both there, together…

Oliver shoved her dress up and hooked his fingers in her panties, tugging them down her thighs. She lifted her hips as best she could, and moved her legs so he could get them off. They got caught on one of her heels, but they were too rushed to care. He left them there, his hands finding the insides of her legs and moving up…

Felicity opened her eyes and looked down.

Oliver’s eyes were right on _her_.

She shivered at the sight - he looked _predatory_ , dangerous… the wounds on his face accented the dark desire in his eyes, the sharp cut of his face as he loomed between her legs, looking larger than life, completely and totally in control, leaving her at his mercy despite the fact that he was the one on his knees…

“Oh god,” she whimpered, a stroke of heat lashing through her, making her sex throb with need as he stared into her eyes, his hands moving up until he reached her thighs. He pushed her legs open again and Felicity pushed herself up onto her elbows, unwilling to lose sight of him.

He smiled at her, a tiny smile that spelled out everything he was going to do to her.

“Oliver,” she gasped, her fingers grasping at the table, her hips thrusting up just as he dipped down, his mouth covering her sex. She cried out as he tasted her, running his tongue along her delicate flesh, pleasure bursting inside her. “Oh god!”

He was insatiable as he moved against her, inside her, over her, eating her out with a ferocity she felt in her bones. He pinched his lips over her clit, making her hips jerk against his face, before he moved down to shove his tongue inside her; Felicity’s head fell back with a whiny cry, her inner walls clamping around him, needing so much more, needing _him_ , but needing him to not stop at the same time…

White hot pleasure scorched along her nerves, leaving a consuming fire in its path, making her feel like she was going to burst at the seams.

“Yes, yes, yes, oh god, yes, don’t stop,” she whimpered, her voice growing louder. He thrust his tongue inside her and she thrust up against him, grinding against his face as she rode it, her legs starting to tremble with the effort… Her pleasure built, like a flame slowly growing more and more out of control, growing larger and hotter and deeper… “Oliver, please… please… More, I need more, I need more, please…”

He pulled back and her eyes snapped down to his; their eyes met just as he wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked, flicking his tongue over her sensitive flesh.

That heat exploded inside her.

“Oh god!” she cried, her elbows starting to ache, emphasizing the pleasure shaking her core, her nails digging into the table, her eyes on him between her legs. He sucked, and sucked, his tongue suddenly flattening over her clit, and heat rushed over her so quick and hard she nearly collapsed as he urged her towards her release, towards her peak, their eyes never breaking…

When she hit her peak, when the pleasure turned sharp, Felicity’s hips shot up against his face in short, rapid thrusts, her sharp cries, “Ooh, ooh, don’t stop, don’t stop… Oliver, please, please… yes, yes, ah, ah, ah!” echoing in the large room. His tongue danced over her clit, demanding more, needing more, and she met him every inch of the way, her body undulating against him, her eyes watching him, watching his mouth on her, his face slick with her desires, with her need for him…

“Oh god, oh god, I’m coming, I’m coming, Oliver, I’m…!”

Oliver’s cheeks suddenly hollowed out, and an insane amount of pressure hit her right on her clit, sending her over the edge. Felicity came, a sheet of white blinding her as she shouted his name, her back arching off the table. Her arms gave and she collapsed, both hands flying to his head to keep him in place as she thrust up against him, sobbing her pleasure until her voice gave out.

His hands grasped her waist, holding her as she thrust up against him, forcing more out of her, so much more until nothing was left.

Felicity fell onto the table with a pathetic gasp, her hands going limp, her legs falling open…

She couldn’t open her eyes, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t do anything but _feel_ as he licked her clean, little noises of satisfaction coming from deep in his chest, making her shiver deep in her sated core…

The End 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/126693877614/nights-at-the-round-table-olicity-explicit)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!


	5. Sweaty Training and Its Rewards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - tahoma-italic asked: I just saw the CW interview of EBR talking about exploring Felicity's training. I just thought I should drop by and share the image of Oliver teaching Felicity self-defense. You know... hot sweaty bodies engaging in close physical contact. It's quite an image, don't you think? (insert Jennifer Lawrence wink gif)

Sweat dripped down her back. It slipped from underneath her sports bra, falling slowly down her spine. Her skin was already damp from three hours of training. It had been _three hours_  of the not fun kind of tussling with Oliver - she wouldn’t be able to _walk_ tomorrow, much less enjoy anything _else_ if Oliver wanted to make up for this evil training abuse, as he kept saying he would.  


She wanted to fast-forward to the making it up to her part, she was done with this.

All her attention was on the tiny bead of sweat as it reached the band of her pants, soaking into the material. She didn’t hear anything else, she didn’t feel anything else.

She waited. 

They were working on her reaction time. It was really her muscle memory he was trying to get on track, so her body would respond without her having to think about it. Her ribs ached from one of his hits, as did her left thigh and her right foot - she hadn’t moved fast enough, something he really, really wanted to fix.

Oliver was relentless, ever since the night she’d nearly gotten taken. She’d fended for herself well enough until he got there - she’d nearly broken a guy’s nose and kicked another in the balls so hard he had to taste them - but someone else had been waiting in the shadows, waiting for the right moment.

If Oliver hadn’t been so quick with his bow, she would have been gone.  


And so… _training_.

So much training she was starting to hate him a little.

Felicity waited… and waited. She was about to throw her hands up and tell him she was _done_  - and that he better have an amazing bubble bath and massage and wine and… other amazing things waiting for her somewhere - when she felt _something._  The air moved _differently_. Before she could take a second to comprehend that she was actually aware of the freaking air _moving_ , she was already responding to it; she was already sliding over, her arm moving to grab his where he’d been about to grab her arm from behind her. Felicity snatched his wrist midair, his skin just as hot and slick as hers, and continued with her momentum, turning to slam her palm up into his face.

Oliver barely dodged it in time, his hand grabbing hers. He spun her so her back slammed against his sweaty chest, but her foot was already hooking behind his ankle. She yanked, breaking his foundation, and she threw her body weight against his, sending them tumbling to the ground in a mess of limbs.

The second Oliver released her, Felicity jabbed her knee into his side, and he let out a heavy whoosh of air as she scrambled away -  _“Run. If there’s a chance to get away, take it, Felicity, don’t stay to make sure he’s down. Incapacitate and run.”_  She let out a triumphant, “Woot!” as she struggled to her feet, but Oliver was too inhumanly fast - he was suddenly behind her, grabbing her ankle, pulling her back down into his arms.

“Hey!” she yelped as he wrapped his arms around her and twisted them so she was underneath him. They panted, trying to catch their breath, their hearts racing - she could feel his thudding against her chest in time with hers - and god, he was _hot_. “Oh my god, you’re so hot.”

“Thank you,” he replied with a stupid grin and she glared at him.  


“Not hot-hot, not like ‘I’m going to climb you like a tree’ hot, but hot like ‘if you don’t get off me I’m going to melt’ hot.”  


Oliver chuckled, still not moving as he looked down at her, his grin turning into one of pride. Felicity’s lungs burned a little less as oxygen started flowing more freely, and she couldn’t help but grin back.

“I did good?”  


“You did very good,” he replied. He gave her a quick kiss - it was wet and salty. “You kicked my ass.”  


“Darn right I did.” Felicity cupped his neck, his very sweaty neck, and pulled him down for another kiss, making a face. “You’re so sweaty.”  


“Mmm,” Oliver hummed before he wiggled his hips, pushing her legs apart. He settled between her thighs, pressing against her and she let out a breathy gasp when she felt every inch of his hardness through his sweats. Felicity breathed his name but he cut it off with a kiss, a much needier kiss, one she felt along every inch of her body.

Felicity pulled her legs up and wrapped them around his waist, pulling him closer and he moaned his approval, rotating his hips, pressing her further into the training mats. She slid a little - because _sweat_ \- but she didn’t care all that much anymore as Oliver started kissing a path down her jaw to her neck, nipping and licking. A sound rumbled from deep in his chest as he tasted her, and her body responded instinctively, her nipples pebbling, a shot of need making her stomach clench. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, arching into him, pressing her face against him.

“Is it reward time?” she whispered into his hair, and he laughed, nodding, his stubble scraping at her sensitized skin, making her shiver. He dragged his hand down her side and pushed it into her pants, pulling away just enough to press his fingers into her wet heat. “Oh… god, Oliver…”  


“Reward time,” he agreed before capturing her lips again.  


The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/126799671704/i-just-saw-the-cw-interview-of-ebr-talking-about)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!


	6. Can't Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous asked: I'm going through some serious Olicity withdrawals- can you write anything about them like I don't know.. what are they doing right now?

Oliver stared at the ceiling.

He watched the the streetlights streaming through the window, slanting across the white-washed ceiling through the half-open blinds. A car drove by and his eyes followed its shadow through the light slats before they regained their shape again. Every few minutes the light would move, a soft breeze blowing through the partially open window.

He couldn’t sleep. He hadn’t been able to sleep since they’d gotten back, but it’d gotten worse and worse… since Sara had come back, since they’d finally gotten a bead on the elusive Darhk, since he’d made the decision to run for Mayor, since he’d found out where Thea disappeared to most nights, since he and Diggle had butted heads _again_  during a mission, since… 

He sighed…

… and stared at the ceiling, his mind racing, unable to stop on any one single thing. There was just _too much_ , too much to concentrate on one thing; his head felt too full, his chest too tight, 

Felicity shifted next to him and he looked at her. Her back was pressed against his side, her arms cradling his where it was wrapped around her, using his bicep as a pillow. She was exhausted, even more than him - running a multi-billion dollar company by day and helping him at night was taking its toll on her, physically and mentally. She fell into bed most nights, completely exhausted, barely giving herself time to change before she was gone to the world.

She let out a little snore, and he felt a tiny drop of drool on his arm. 

A ghost of a smile skated over his lips. He pulled her closer, turning back to the ceiling. 

Oliver closed his eyes, his mind floating back to easier times, simpler times. His chest tightened at the memories of their months away, when it had just been them and nothing else. Late mornings; leisurely drives; picnics where they’d stared at the sky, talking about cloud shapes before he would doze off, his head on her stomach; long hikes, long showers, long naps…

He tried to let them lull him to sleep… but a second later he opened his eyes again. 

He was so _tired_ , but he was wide awake.

His stomach growled softly. When was the last time he’d eaten? He didn’t remember eating dinner. Oliver glanced at the clock - they’d only been home for a few hours. They’d worked right through dinner time.

His stomach growled again, and this time he heeded it. Oliver sat up gently, slowly sliding his arm out from under Felicity. She made a little noise, moving to grab something else. She found a pillow and pulled it against her chest, digging her face in before sighing, relaxing back into her deep slumber.

Oliver paused a second, looking down at her, his love for this tiny woman making his chest feel full for a very different reason. He smiled, and smoothed her hair down, pressing a kiss to her temple, feeling a little looser, a little more relaxed - he had her, and that made everything _better_  somehow - before he got up.

The loft was quiet. He knew Thea was home, he’d checked when they’d finally arrived themselves. His mind immediately shied away from the topic, his self-preservation kicking in, knowing he was way too damn tired to go down that road at three in the morning.

Oliver padded into the kitchen and checked the fridge, and then the cupboards, before opening the fridge again. He wasn’t hungry for anything, but he knew he should eat… He opened the freezer and his eyes fell on Felicity’s mint chocolate chip ice cream, and his stomach grumbled in agreement. He didn’t do sweets, but at that very moment, ice cream sounded _amazing._

Oliver pulled the carton out, tugging the top off, tossing it on the counter and grabbed a spoon.Taking a scoop, Oliver savored the sharp sweetness on his tongue, taking another bite as he made his way to the windows overlooking the city.

He heard the soft rustle of their sheets followed by the soft thud of her feet landing on the floor. Oliver didn’t turn, taking another bite of the ice cream as she made her way down the stairs and towards him.

Felicity wrapped her arms around his middle, pressing her face against his shoulder blade. She gave him a light kiss, and Oliver leaned back, letting her help him bear some of the weight on his shoulders. It was purely instinctual anymore - leaning on her, letting her lean on him, just being there for each other.

“Hi,” she whispered, moving so she could look around his shoulder, her arms still wrapped around him. “Can’t sleep?”  


“No,” Oliver replied, taking another bite. 

She made a little noise and he looked down at her to see her eyes on the ice cream. He smiled, that relaxed feeling he’d felt in bed returning. Oliver scooped out a tiny spoonful, holding it out for her. With a sleepy smile, she wrapped her lips around it, sucking the ice cream off, making little noises as she swirled it around before swallowing.

A streak of desire shot through him - it momentarily erased the worries weighing on his mind, and he gladly let it. Oliver turned in her embrace, wrapping his free arm around her waist, giving her a soft kiss. She tasted like mint chocolate chip and Felicity, and he wanted more. She gave him a soft moan, standing on her toes to get closer to him, and he slid his tongue along the seam of her lips, begging entrance.

In the next second, Oliver was walking them backwards until he found a table to set the ice cream down on, and then he swooped her up into his arms. 

Felicity yelped when his cold hand touched her bare thigh, but it quickly warmed as she kissed and nipped her way to his ear, making it particularly hard to find his way up the stairs before they reached the bed, falling into each other’s embrace. They took that moment for just them, to remember that while so much was going on, that they had so much to worry about, they still had each other.

The next morning they woke up to a giant pile of melted ice cream on the dining room table, and Thea standing in the kitchen, giving them a knowing smile as she drank her coffee.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/126807773049/im-going-through-some-serious-olicity)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!


	7. Guns & High Heels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on Amell's "Felicity Smoak looks sexy firing a gun" comment (the bastard).

Six months ago, the sound of a gun discharging in the lair would’ve made Oliver’s blood run cold.

He still felt that initial instinct when he wasn’t ready for it: his heart jumped in alarm, his body clenching with the instinctual urge to find the closest cover, flinching as his eyes shot around the new open space, an uncomfortable unease in his chest telling him he still didn’t know the lair that well yet, that it could be coming from anywhere…

That only happened when he wasn’t ready, though, and these days… these days it was one of the things he looked forward to the most.

He remembered with vivid alacrity when Lyla had first started showing Felicity how to fire a gun. She knew _how_ to fire a gun, she knew enough about it from her years working with him and Diggle to know the basics, to pick one up and shoot at someone if the situation called for it, but she didn’t like it, for a really good reason: she didn’t know how to properly shoot one.

Oliver had been against it, when it first came up; a mission had gone bad, falling too close to the van where she’d been working. Oliver had yelled in the comm for her to get down - to _stay_ down - but then she’d seen Diggle take a shot to the shoulder. Instinct had her running out into a rain of gunfire for him, ignoring him yelling at her to get back. Instead she’d dragged him out of the way, telling Oliver to shut up through the comm when he asked her what the hell she was doing, and stemmed the blood flow using her jacket… but someone had seen them, and they came up behind her with a gun aimed right at her head…

_“Felicity!”_

Oliver had just used his last arrow when he spotted him; he was too far away to get there in time, leaving him with either jumping down four stories and hoping he didn’t break something, or watching the worst thing he could possibly imagine unfold before his eyes. Oliver had been ready to jump off the roof, only having eyes for the gun aimed at Felicity’s head, his heart shoving its way up his throat so hard and fast he’d nearly stopped breathing at the thought of…

But then Felicity had spun around with Diggle’s gun in hand, because Diggle had seen the guy. She’d fired before she even saw him, the shot going wide, but it did its job, spooking him long enough for her to shoot him in the foot.

Well, _finally_ shooting him in the foot. She’d shot _around_ him four times, but still… the job had been done.

Still, Oliver didn’t want her any closer to the danger than she already was; he didn’t want to invite a reason for her to get hurt, in any way, and he’d been more than vocal about it.

It’d taken one look from her for him to shut his mouth - she was doing it either way, and they both knew if he disagreed, especially based on the reasoning that he just didn’t want her in the fray, they’d have problems.

They’d stared at each other for a minute, her eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching, neither budging… before Oliver finally ceded.

It hadn’t stopped him from glowering about it the entire time Lyla walked her through the basics, especially when he kept interjecting with his own thoughts, earning him a glare from Lyla that time…

But then she’d surprised him; she’d surprised all of them.

Felicity Smoak was actually pretty damn good with a gun.

Even on her first shot, her body took to holding the piece like it was the most natural thing in the world once she got an idea of _how_. Oliver and Diggle had stood back, both watching with quiet appreciation as Lyla situated Felicity, giving her pointers, instructing her as to when and how to fire…

A serene look of pride was on Diggle’s face, very aware of the expertise his wife wielded, and Oliver… well, Oliver hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off Felicity as she took her stance and made her first shot.

And then her second, and third, fourth, and…

And now, six months later, he still couldn’t keep his eyes off her, especially since she’d had a mini-gun range installed for this very thing. She was getting to be a far better shot than even he was.

Another quick series of shots sounded from the far corner of their new lair, and Oliver followed the heavy sounds. The entire place was soundproofed but Felicity had had an extra layer put in the room where the gun range was - _“Just in case,”_ even though someone would have to dig through ten feet of concrete to even realize there was anything but dirt underneath Palmer Tech.

Oliver entered the room and immediately grabbed ear protection and glasses, slipping them on - the last time he hadn’t, she’d narrowed her eyes, making him think he was in for it… but then she’d surprised him, seducing him right into a chair, straddling him… and _then_ proceeded to give him a fifteen minute lecture on ear and eye safety in enclosed spaces where gun fire was. It would’ve been extremely sexy and adorable that _she_ was lecturing _him_ about it, except she was dead serious the entire time.

And he’d gotten _nothing_ afterwards.

So, he’d learned his lesson.

Felicity was standing in her favorite stall, back rigid, form damn near perfect, still wearing what she’d worn to work that day - a bright yellow dress that hugged her curves, thick black lines falling down the sides, emphasizing the cut of her waist and the roundness of her perfect ass. She was all steel where she stood, firing, her hair down, slicked back from being in a ponytail all day, safety glasses and ear protection on…

… and wearing those new five-inch patent leather boots she’d brought home last week, the ones that looked utterly ridiculous in their box, but when she’d put them…

When she wore them _firing a gun_ …

Oliver paused, licking his lips, his eyes on her body as it jostled with each shot… his palms grew hot and itchy, knowing exactly what her curves would feel like when he came up behind her, his hands circling her waist, slipping around to her stomach, one falling down to her open thigh as the other skated up to cup one of her breasts; her nipples would be hard, waiting for him, straining against her dress, standing out gorgeously in that bright yellow…

When she’d started out, she’d worn flat footwear, to get her base situated per Lyla, but that hadn’t lasted long - she was always in heels; she loved her damn heels - and so did he, he was _so_ not complaining - which meant, _“I need to practice in them. It’s not like the bad guys are gonna pause while I kick my shoes off so I can fire at them properly.”_

_Fire at them properly._

God, he loved her… and he loved how damn sexy she was shooting a gun.

Oliver’s pants tightened, the hard seam in his jeans pinching him, and he readjusted, biting back a soft moan when he cupped himself. Her fingernails were a dark navy blue at the moment, and his mind instantly pictured them trailing down his zipper instead of his, just as they’d done last night in the car…

The thought only made him harder.

Felicity fired until the clip was empty.

Oliver walked up, watching her sure movements as she replaced the old one with a new clip, shoving it in until it clicked, knocking the hammer back - she loved the 1911 Colts for some reason. He thought they were too heavy and cumbersome; he preferred something light that he could mold to and move with, but…

_“I like things a little… heavier.”_

Oliver didn’t bother telling her he was there, he could tell she already knew - her body shifted minutely, just enough like she was readjusting to make room for him in her space; it was something he’d noticed she did two months into their road trip whenever he was around, whenever she felt him, whenever something told her he was there.

His eyes danced over the variety of targets she had set up, all of them in different positions and heights…

She’d hit the bullseye on nearly every single one.

Oliver let out a heavy breath, clenching his teeth as a shot of desire fired through him at the sight - it was hot as absolute _hell_ ; it was heady, almost, the knowledge that she was in here, training, practicing… it more than turned him on knowing she could easily shoot the ear protection right off his head from a dozen feet away if she wanted.

There was something incredibly erotic about that, knowing she could take care of herself, that she was becoming so…

_Deadly._

He loved protecting Felicity, whenever he could; he did it instinctively, it wasn’t even a question. When danger was around them, he immediately curved around her, protecting her from any potential threats… But knowing she could easily do that for herself now, that she was well on her way to being able to handle whatever was thrown at her in the field…

He wanted to grab her and shove her up against the wall, ripping the damn dress off as he…

Felicity looked back at him. “Hey, you.”

Oliver grinned, a smile he thought was genial enough, but when her eyes dropped down to his lips, her pupils widening, her mouth parting in a sudden intake of breath, he knew she knew exactly what he’d been thinking. A light flush rushed over her cheeks, and his pants tightened even more, the hard bulge straining against his zipper.

Jeans.

Why did he always wear _jeans_.

Her eyes slipped back up to his, her flush growing deeper… and they both knew exactly what was going to happen.

Oliver’s eyes slid to look behind her at the targets.

“You’re a little off on the left,” he said, his voice husky.

She wasn’t, and they both knew it.

He watched her take in a deep breath, licking her lips - her gorgeous plump lips, slightly swollen because she still bit her lips when she concentrated on the targets - and his stomach clenched, his hips shifting, yearning for any sort of friction as he took a step towards her without even thinking, invading her space.

“Got a few pointers?” she asked, giving him a soft smile, a secretive smile. It was his turn to flush at the promise in her eyes, her eyes darkening at whatever she saw on his face before she turned back to the targets.

Oliver instantly yanked his ear protection off and molded himself to her back, his hands grasping her waist and sliding up. Felicity shivered, turning her head back towards him slightly; he saw her eyes fluttering shut as he slid his hands up to her shoulder. Before she could say anything, Oliver tugged her protection off as well, leaving them dangling around her neck, his other hand sliding down her arm to her gun.

He clicked the safety on.

Felicity let out a steady breath, but didn’t say anything. He felt the fine tremble in her arms; he left the gun in her hand, scraping his calloused fingers back up her arm to gently tug her hair out of the way, brushing it back over her shoulder.

“Oliver…” she whispered, leaning back against him.

“You want to make sure your stance is right,” he whispered into her ear, pushing his booted feet between her legs, kicking them wider.

Her breath hitched, her body tightening.

Oliver pushed them forward until she was up against the partition, staying plastered against her, feeling her body heat rising under him, her breaths becoming shallow. He brushed a wet kiss against the shell of her ear, and she gifted him with the most beautifully delicate moan, one that made him groan in his own need for her, his hips thrusting against her ample ass.

She whimpered when she felt how hard he was, and Oliver dipped down, his fingers finding the bottom of her dress. Felicity’s head fell back, her mouth opening in a soft pant as he slowly pulled it up to her waist, exposing her to the open, chilly air around them.

“Once you have a good foundation,” he continued, his voice steady as if he really were instructing her.

“Okay,” she said breathlessly, the word ending in a choked gasp as Oliver pressed his lips to the soft skin right below her ear. He slipped his hands back down, over her thin lace panties. He cupped her through them with one hand, the other slipping under the band. “Oliver…!”

“And then,” he whispered. “You want to… aim.”

Oliver hiked her a little higher, just enough for him to rub against her from behind, right against her naked cheeks. Felicity shuddered, her free hand grasping the back of his head while the other nearly dropped her gun.

“Oh damn,” she gasped, realizing what she was holding. She set it down, turning to give him a look.

“Oliver, you don’t… aahh, oh god!” she broke off as he suddenly pushed the hand outside her panties up against her, pressing into her wet entrance as his other found her clit. She gasped, grasping at the hard plastic of the partition as he lifted her even higher, nearly off her feet; her heels scraped at the ground, looking for purchase. Oliver pressed his fingers into her slightly, the harsh lace rubbing against her sensitive flesh. Her hips thrust down against his hands, her fingers bloodless where she hung on as he rubbed.

Oliver blanketed himself over her. His lips found her ear, sucking her earlobe into his mouth as her wetness seeped through her panties, coating his fingers, her little clit growing harder under his ministration.

“Oliver…” she moaned, her voice cracking, and he rubbed her harder, wanting to feel her come, wanting to feel her entrance clenching with need, need for him. He pressed his fingers further into her through her panties, her cries growing louder as she thrust down, seeking _more_ , more of her arousal soaking his hand. “Oh god, oh god… Please… harder…

Her little cries surged through him, making him harder, wanting to hear the sounds she made as he thrust into her…

Oliver groaned, thrusting against her ass, pushing her further into the partition, and she arched her back, seeking her more friction everywhere she could. He rubbed himself against her, panting into her ear as a gentle, dull pleasure started building… his fingers moved faster over her slick clit, his others pressing up into her, knowing it wasn’t enough for either of them… but not wanting to stop at the same time. Her desperate whimpers filled his ears as he pressed against in short, hard thrusts, groaning with each brush.

“Harder, harder, please…” she whimpered, straining against him. Felicity’s hand back, grasping at his thigh, looking for leverage as she met his thrusts, her channel pulsing with the need to be filled. “Oliver… please…”

When he kept moving, kept rubbing, kept _teasing_ her… doing nothing to help her, she cursed under her breath, and he felt the shift in her before she even moved.

Felicity suddenly pushed back and twisted in his arms, forcing his hands out of her panties, and in the same breath, grasped his shirt, tugging him down, their lips crashing together. Oliver groaned, his cock straining in his jeans, his fingers wet from her juices, her heat so alive he felt it scorching the air between them as he wrapped his arms around her and yanked her as close as he could get her. She kissed him with a desperation he felt in his bones and he met her every step of the way, stumbling back until she was pressed against the partition again.

With a soft grunt, Oliver lifted her, setting her down on the small overhang; it was big enough to use as a base to lean on for shooting guns, to set your gun down, not to _sit_ on; Felicity grasped his shoulders for balance, her legs wrapping around his waist, bending over him, unwilling to break the kiss.

Oliver pushed his hands under her legs to his jeans, unbuttoning them clumsily, concentrating more on the taste of her, the feel of her lips on his, the way her teeth scratched at him, stoking the fiery need inside him, finally getting them open.

“Aahh… god,” Oliver moaned when he shoved his jeans and boxers down, his cock springing free, the cold air biting at his hot flesh. Felicity swallowed the noises he made, wrapping herself tighter around him, pulling him closer. He sighed, pushing himself as close as he possibly could. He slid his hand down between her legs and shoved her thong out of the way before he lifted her up and slid her down his body until her wet sex brushed against him.

“Oh god, Felicity,” he whispered harshly, clenching his teeth, digging his fingers into her waist as her slick nether lips slid over him, driving him crazy… Oliver braced his arm against the edge of the partition and set her against it, her lower back shoving his arm against the hard plastic painfully, but he barely felt it when she reached between them, grasping him. “Yes… oh, Felicity…”

Felicity covered his lips with hers, cutting off his moans, her strong fingers squeezing his thick shaft, running her hand up to brush her thumb over the head. He gasped brokenly into her mouth, thrusting into her touch, feeling the ice hot burn of her spreading his precum, the cool air biting at the wetness…

She did it again, and he moaned, thrusting against her mindlessly. She lifted her hips, nodding against him, urging him to move. Oliver angled down and she positioned him at her wet entrance…

Oliver thrust in without preamble, filling her in one deep thrust.

“Oliver!” Felicity yelped. She threw her head back, her chest arching up, sending the heavy ear protection further up her neck as her hands flew to the partition for balance. Oliver gritted his teeth, her inner walls clamping down on him, so hot and tight, pulsating, pulling him in deeper. He pulled out slowly and thrust back in, rocking against her in a way that made her whine. He did it again, and again, pressing his face into her chest, his lips finding one of her nipples through her dress.

“Yes…” she whimpered, her hand finding the back of his head, her fingers clasping a handful of hair to push him closer. “Yes, so good, just like that… _Harder_ …” Oliver sucked the clothed nipple his mouth and bit down softly just as he thrust into her with more force. “Yes!”

The sound of the plastic partition groaning echoed their combined cries as his hips started moving faster. Felicity wrapped her legs around him, locking her ankles behind him; his jeans slid further down, and she angled her feet, shoving her heels against him, sending a sharp prick of pain that only added to the pleasure blossoming inside him.

“Fuck… Felicity…”

_More…_

Oliver grasped the partition for leverage and pulled back, his eyes skating over her where she laid sprawled out before him, anchored over his arm, her skin growing dark pink with pleasure, her lips wet and puffy, her eyes glazed with desire. The sounds coming from her throat spurned him on, and Oliver thrust harder, his eyes falling down to where he disappeared into her, over and over, his cock wet with her…

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, his cock swelling more at the erotic sight, at the sight of her panties shoved to the side, only adding another layer of sensation as they scraped against him with each thrust. He watched himself, thrusting into her, _filling her_ , feeling the hot coil of his pleasure starting to tighten… The pressure at the base of his spine grew hotter and hotter… “Oh… god…”

Oliver’s eyes flew back up to Felicity and he found her watching them as well. He gasped her name, and her eyes fly to his. She was flush with pleasure, eyes bright with need, frantic gasps falling from her lips, words he could barely hear as all the blood in his body rushed through him in a wash of white noise, heading straight for his center…

“Oh god,” Felicity cried, her body suddenly quivering violently, her eyes fluttering as she stiffened. Their eyes stayed locked, unable to look away, unwilling to, as he watched her release building, higher and higher… “Oliver…!”

Oliver felt a heady rush of her arousal coating him, making her even slicker, and he thrust even harder, angling his hips down so he was rubbing right against her clit.

“Yes… yes… yes, yes!” Felicity moaned, her back bowing… she came with a hoarse shout, the orgasm crashing through her; she flew apart in his arms, her inner walls clamping down, sucking him in even deeper as she undulated against him.

Oliver rasped her name, over and over, curling himself around her, his thrusts losing all rhythm. He held onto her tighter, burying his face into her chest as he thrust, chasing his own release, mindless as it grew hotter…

“Aahhh!” Oliver came, spurting into her, filling her as he thrust wildly, incomprehensible noises falling from his throat, feeling nothing but her, only her, cradling him closer, holding him as he fell apart in her arms.

A long moment later, Oliver finally realized his arm was falling asleep. Felicity’s fingers drifted through his hair, their breathing evening out, her body growing slack underneath him. With jerky movements and an unhappy groan, Oliver stood, sliding out of her, a soft, “Ooh,” falling from her throat, making his cock twitch.

Felicity let out a content sigh as he set her down, and they both fell against the wall.

Oliver watched with heavy lids as she readjusted her panties, smoothing her dress back down, barely able to bring himself to do anything but watch her, contentment making his limbs feel heavy…

Her fingers were still a little shaky as she reached over and tucked him back into his boxers. Oliver’s hands found her shoulders as she touched him gingerly, not caring about the mess she smearing all over her fingers. She smiled, eyes heavy with satisfaction as she crouched down, using him for balance; his hands found her soft hair as she helped him pull his jeans up. His hands met her halfway when they reached his hips and he tugged his zipper up just enough before pulling her up and into his arms.

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders as he kissed her.

“So…” Felicity breathed against his lips. “A little off on the left, huh?”

Oliver chuckled, leaning his forehead against hers. “Just a little,” he said, his voice teasing.

“Mmhmm,” she replied, brushing their noses together before she stepped back and picked up the gun. Oliver watched her, raising an eyebrow when she flicked the safety off and looked back at him. “Guess I need a little more practice.”

Felicity suddenly turned back to the targets, already raising the gun, and fired, shooting five of the targets in quick succession. Oliver’s jaw dropped as he watched her, barely flinching at the loud gunshots as she hit every single bullseye.

_Damn._

His cock twitched, already stirring for more as Felicity gave him a smug little smirk, one that made his arousal burn again. Oliver reached over and tugged her back into his arms, whispering, “Home, _now_ ,” before kissing her, holding her closer as she giggled.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/127375400154/guns-high-heels-olicity-explicit)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!


	8. Can't Stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - jodygoroar asked: So Olicity seem to have sex in the foundry quite often, can you write something where maybe Diggle and Laurel walk in but don't find them and leave quickly so Oliver and Felicity keep going?

It always started simple.

A long look, a little smile, a lingering hand… it was easy to handle when the others were around, easy to _wait_ until they were alone to let it become more - the rest of team was like a bunch of mini buffers, reminders that they had company and they had to share the secret thought later, or let the kiss deepen _after_ the mission…

But when they _were_ alone…

Felicity gripped the lapels of Oliver’s jacket as he pushed her up against the wall, his mouth on hers, his hands cupping her face roughly, angling her head so he could go deeper. She moaned, opening herself to him, using the wall as leverage to push herself up closer to him, sliding her hands around his neck, wrapping her leg around his, urging him closer. He was hard already, his heavy bulge pressing against her lower stomach, and she whimpered, her body throbbing with the sudden sharp need burning inside her.

It always amazed her how much it took her by surprise; she thought she’d be used to it by now, how quickly the need to be near him took over, to touch him, to _have_ him, how quickly nothing else mattered but getting her hands on him, tasting him…

Oliver made tiny noises deep in his throat, whimpers mixed with moans that set her blood on fire. She scraped her nails down the side of his neck, making him shiver, his fingers on her jaw tightening. Felicity lifted her leg higher, aching to feel him where she needed him the most. The cool air touched her already-wet sex through her damp panties as she angled her hips towards him, holding on as tight as she could as he shoved her further up the wall.

He broke away with a quiet whine, dropping his hands, leaving her gasping for air. Oliver dropped down to his knees before her, his eager hands pushing her skirt up, folding it around her waist, his fingers already dipping down to tug her panties off. Felicity gripped his shoulders for balance as he yanked them down her legs, lifting her heeled feet for him…

Oliver pushed himself back, shoving her wet lacy thong into his pocket, his lips finding hers; his hands were on her thighs, and then her hips, leaving a path of fire in their wake as he touched her.

One hand slipped between her legs, dipping into her wetness…

Oliver hissed when he felt how wet she was, and she moaned his name, kissing him again, arching up for more…

She _needed_ him… needed him deep inside her, filling her… it’d been too long since that morning.

_Hours._

Felicity pushed on his chest and gripped his jacket, spinning them so he was pressed up against the wall. Oliver wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against him like he couldn’t stand not having his lips on hers, sending a stroke of heat straight for her center at his own obvious need for her, matching her own for him, his hands grasping at her, gripping her tight…

One hand slid up into her hair, dislodging her ponytail while the other slid down to her leg, gripping her thigh and lifting it, spreading her open to the chilly air.

Felicity moaned at the sensation, her eyes fluttering shut, and Oliver spun them again, pushing her up against the wall, but they didn’t stay there - she used his momentum, pulling her leg back as she spun them again, pushing them into a shadowy corner of the dank basement they’d been using as their lair for the last few weeks.

It was suddenly very unimportant that the floor was so dirty, or that the walls were covered in old oil and dirt, debris getting all over them and their clothes, in their hair, everywhere…

_They didn’t care._

Felicity pushed Oliver up against the wall and shoved his jacket down his shoulders. He kept his lips glued to hers, his tongue slipping against hers, his moans echoing hers in the tiny space. The leather landed on the floor with a heavy plop and she pulled away from, her hands already falling to his jeans.

Oliver pressed his face to the crown of her head as she undid his belt, his hands pushing up into her hair, yanking the tie out. She sighed, pushing herself closer to him, shivering when he scraped his nails across her scalp as her fingers found his button and zipper next. She pulled it down, the zipper sounding so loud in the little corner, and yanked his pants open before pushing them down.

“Sit,” she breathed, nodding for him to go down and he didn’t blink an eye, doing as she said. Oliver kicked his jacket so it was flatter and sat down on it, his eyes on her where she stood before him, lifting himself up, pushing his jeans and boxers down his thighs, his cock bouncing free.

Felicity watched him grip the base of his cock, his fingers dipping down to tug on his balls and she whimpered, need tugging at her center as she gripped his shoulders and kneeled over him. His hand found her hip, gripping her tightly, positioning himself at her entrance….

When the head of his cock rubbed up and over her clit, Felicity’s breath stuttered, arousal flooding her system until there was nothing left but _want_ and _need_.

With one quick thrust, Felicity took him into her, all the way to the hilt.

“Oh god,” Oliver moaned, choking on the words, his head falling back against the concrete wall with a heavy thud. Felicity settled against him further, taking him in deeper with a whiny moan as she lifted her legs, her nails digging into his neck as he filled her completely. “Felicity…”

“Oliver,” Felicity whimpered. She lifted herself up and thrust back down, her juices leaking all over him, her walls clamping down. Oliver gripped her hips tightly, almost too tightly as he leaned up, capturing her lips again, muffling her cries as she started moving over him, his hips rising up to meet her as much as he could.

They moved against each other, Felicity using the wall to help lift herself as Oliver pushed her back down, their hurried breaths becoming more desperate as he filled her over and over… Oliver’s lips found her throat, his teeth tugging on her skin, the sharp little pains traveling straight to her core as she bounced on him; she pushed her face against his, breathing him in, her frantic moans growing louder as her pleasure grew…

And then they heard it:

The door opening.

Felicity gasped in surprise and sank down on top of  him, taking him into her completely just as his hands pushed her down, keeping her still as they both froze.

The sound of footsteps got closer, followed by quiet murmurs…

Felicity sat up slightly, just enough to look down at him. They were both panting, trying to keep quiet; he looked back at her, his eyes dark, glazed with need and denied pleasure, his lips swollen from her kisses. She felt the soft burns around her mouth from his stubble, felt the light sting where his teeth had grazed her…

They didn’t move, didn’t look away, as Diggle and Laurel got closer.

“Oliver!” Diggle called. “Felicity?”

They stayed right where they were, wrapped around each other, too far gone to do anything but wait… Desire still coursed through their veins, urging them on, the low burn in Felicity’s belly starting to make her skin tingle with the need to _move_ …

Before she could stop herself, Felicity shifted, rotating her hips slightly, and Oliver inhaled quickly, his eyes fluttering shut as he tightened his hold on her. Whether it was to stop her or encourage her, she didn’t know, but she did it again, closing her eyes at the tiny sensations that suddenly felt _huge_ ; they radiated through her, stoking the fiery burn deep inside her.

“I don’t think they’re here,” Laurel said, and they both heard the rustle of her jacket as she looked around. Felicity leaned into him, her hips moving just enough, her mouth dropping open in a silent cry as he took a steady breath, holding onto her. “You tried calling them?”

“Yeah, they didn’t pick up. Oliver said he was stopping here first to drop Felicity off.” More rustling. “I’ll try again.”

Oliver’s phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket.

He stiffened, but instead of stopping her he gripped her tighter and lifted her slightly, creating the most beautiful friction as the buzzing phone vibrated through him and into her; she barely felt it, but it was enough to send her need spiking even higher.

Felicity suddenly pulled back and grabbed his jaw, pulling his face up to hers, kissing him with ferocity as she thrust against him in tiny movements, so small, so quiet… but they felt so _good_.

Oliver let out a little breath against her lips before kissing her back with even more force, sliding one hand up to grip the back of her neck as she moved against him.

“Maybe they’re already at the docks,” Laurel said, her voice suddenly sounding far away.

Oliver and Felicity didn’t stop; they didn’t notice that Diggle’s voice was fading as well until they heard the heavy slam of the door closing again.

The second it sounded, Oliver’s grip on her neck and hip tightened and he lifted her, slamming her back down. Felicity broke away, a sharp cry falling from her throat as she lifted herself in time with his hard movements, meeting his thrusts, the slow burn they’d been building before they were interrupted coming back with a vengeance.

“Oh god,” Felicity gasped, holding onto him tighter as she thrust down harder, feeling the rough jolts right against her clit. “Oh god!”

“Felicity…” he breathed, shoving his face into her chest, holding on as they moved against each other. “Oh god, don’t stop, don’t stop… oh god…”

“Oliver, Oliver… yes, yes…! ” Felicity suddenly stiffened, her pleasure peaking… Oliver yanked her down in harsh jerks, over and over, his cries muffled in her chest as he chased his own pleasure. He suddenly angled her hips, rubbing her clit over his shirt-covered pelvic bone, and it shoved her right over the edge with a sharp, “Ahh!”

Her cry echoed in the small space, echoing out into the rest of the basement, the orgasm shooting through her; it pulled her higher and higher as Oliver’s hands dropped to her hips, yanking her down harder, over and over, before he…

“Ooh… god, Felicity!” he groaned, coming deep inside her, his groan followed by a low cry as he emptied himself inside her. Her silky walls milked him for all he had, making him shudder against her, gasping her name over and over until he had nothing left.

Oliver collapsed against the wall, pulling Felicity with him; she dropped down on top of him, their hot breath skating over slick skin, trembling hands holding each other closer, bone-deep pleasure emanating from both of them…

She wasn’t sure how much time passed, but it felt like a lot.

“We should… probably get going,” Felicity whispered, not moving.

“Okay,” he said. “Yeah. We will… in a minute.”

“Okay, good. In a minute then.&rdrdquo

Oliver nodded his agreement, pushing his face across hers until he found her lips.

The kiss started out soft and slow, lovingly lazy and sated. It slowly grew more heated. Felicity shifted, pressing her chest against his, and he dug his fingers into her back… right as Oliver’s phone ringing interrupted them. With an unhappy groan, he managed to pull it out of his pocket without dislodging her and answered with a breathless, “Yeah?”

“Oh, for the love of…” Diggle said on the other end. He sighed and Felicity could perfectly imagine him shaking his head as he looked up to the heavens. “You two are ridiculous.”

“What?” Oliver asked, and Diggle just made a noise of exasperation.

“Sorry, Digg!” Felicity said, loud enough so he could hear her, and she caught his sarcastic, “Oh, I’m sure you’re real sorry,” before saying, “Just get your ass to the docks, Queen.”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/127503125939/so-olicity-seem-to-have-sex-in-the-foundry-quite)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!


	9. Pickles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the new Olicity pic from TV Guide!

“You want pickles?”

“When have I ever wanted pickles?”  


“Sometimes you want pickles, Oliver, and it only took that one time for you to steal my pickles for me to ask you this every single time. I love pickles, which means I don’t stand for my boyfriend stealing pickles off my hamburger.”  


Oliver chuckled, pinching his lips to keep the grin that was threatening to break his face as he looked up. He set down the arrow he’d been working on next to the dozens of other dull arrowheads waiting to be sharpened and looked up at her. 

Felicity stared at him expectantly, waiting for an answer.  


About _pickles_.

They’d just officially decided that this was really happening, that they were going forward with the Green Arrow, that he was donning the hood again… and she was asking him about pickles.

 _Pickles_.

God, he loved her.

“I don’t want pickles,” he said, and she raised a skeptical eyebrow. This time he couldn’t fight the grin. “I don’t.”  


Felicity narrowed her eyes and leaned forward on the table, bracing herself between the piles of arrows, studying him. After a second, she said, “I’m getting you pickles.”

“I won’t eat them,” he retorted.  


“Then I’ll eat them.”  


“How about you get extra pickles and I’ll just eat yours.”

Felicity shook her head sadly. “The man I love is a pickle thief. Where did I go wrong in life?”

Oliver laughed. He reached up and cupped her neck, pulling her closer as he said, “I’m so sorry you had to find this out when you’re already stuck with me.”

“Me too. I love them…”  


Oliver cut her off with a kiss.

“Oh god,” Thea groaned from across the room. “You’re literally just going down the street to Big Belly Burger, and you can’t even do that without making me want to gag.” 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/127562781674/a-drabble-based-on-the-new-picture-a-drabble)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!


	10. A Good Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the full-sized Olicity pic from TV Guide!

  
  
([Picture Source](http://kimberlysis.tumblr.com/post/127580809957/full-olicity-pic-from-tv-guide-magazine))

Oliver stared at the cloth-covered furniture, his eyes drifting across the open space every few seconds, like he couldn’t believe he was really there…

Or that they were really doing this.

That _he_ was really doing this.

The foundry looked different than it had the last time he’d been there - after the SCPD had raided it, leaving nothing behind but dust and broken arrows, it had been left here to collect dust, for months. Now it was a caricature of itself, _lifeless_ ; the ghostly cloths were reminders of the life the place had once had - the life of the vigilante, and then the Hood…

The Arrow.

But that Arrow was gone.

What was he supposed to be now?

“Hey.”

Oliver inhaled quickly, looking up in surprise. He hadn’t heard her come in.

Felicity gave him a soft smile, setting her jacket and purse down on what had once upon a time been _her_ chair. Now it was just another piece of furniture, left behind… Oliver watched her as she made her way over, smiling, but she didn’t stop; instead she walked past him, heading towards the ghostly salmon ladder.

“That’s coming with us, right?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at him.

Oliver furrowed his brow.

Felicity turned back to it, putting her hands on her hips, nodding. “It should definitely come with us. The new Arrow Cave, wherever it will be or… whatever it’ll be called, we’ll talk about that later, will need this. For health reasons, of course, because your arms - and chest and shoulders - need health, but also because I like it.” She looked back at him. “A lot.”

He chuckled.

Oliver didn’t have to see the look on Felicity’s face to know that the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

She came back to him, her eyes soft and warm; strong and sure. He wanted to look away - he wanted to look around, point out all the reasons why this was a very bad idea, all the things he’d lost - _they’d_ lost… but he couldn’t. Felicity held his gaze as she stopped before him, clasping his hand between hers where it laid on the dusty desk.

“Is this a good idea?” he asked, his voice barely carrying through the large empty space.

“Yes,” she replied immediately. Felicity’s lips ticked up, and she glanced down at their hands, squeezing his fingers between hers before looking back at him. “You’re a hero, Oliver, and you _can_ do so much as the Mayor, yes, but… there’s more, inside you. You’re not complete.” He closed his eyes. “You made a difference, you changed lives. You _saved_ lives.”

He sighed. “But…”

“You know,” she said, interrupting him and his eyes flew back to her. “You wouldn’t be down here if you weren’t ready.”

He raised an eyebrow. “All I remember when I’m down here are the bad times, Felicity; all the reasons why I _shouldn’t_ do this.”

“Or a how-to guide on what not to do,” she offered, and he laughed. This time the smile did reach his eyes. Felicity grinned, leaning in closer. “Oliver, you’re meant to be more than a regular Joe. You have so much to give, to this city, to the world… you can’t do all that in an office.”

Oliver could only stare at her, unable to comprehend how he’d gone so long without her by his side, like this. He stared at their tangled fingers, hers so small and delicate compared to his large, scarred ones; the light to his darkness, the answer to all his questions…

She was right, and he knew it; had known it. She wasn’t wrong that that was exactly why he’d come down here.

 _A reminder…_ of what _not_ to do, but also of what they’d done right.

“Not even if the office has big pretty windows?” he asked, his tone lightening, and her face brightened.

“Well, those are a plus. And a nice change from…” She looked around. “The new place needs more light, for sure.”

“More light. Check.”

“And that,” Felicity said, nodding to the salmon ladder, and Oliver laughed again. He tugged on her hand, pulling her around the desk and into his arms. She grinned, brushing her nose against his, kissing him. “And this.”

“Definitely this,” he replied before kissing her properly.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/127584964549/a-good-idea-olicity-season-4)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!


	11. Spankings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Inspired by Morgan & Garcia from Criminal Minds.)
> 
> "Behave."
> 
> "Or what, you'll spank me?"

The comm in her ear chirped, alerting her to Oliver’s incoming call. 

 _Finally_.

Felicity let out the breath she’d been holding since he and Diggle had gone dark as they made their way underground. The comm had given way to static that only got heavier and heavier the further away from the surface they got, leaving her with nothing to do but stare at the clock, waiting. She’d been doing just that, sitting in the dank basement office under City Hall for the last thirty minutes, unable to stop her mind from weaving the worst possible scenarios it possibly could - what if they were caught, what if they were hanging upside down somewhere, what if they were shot, or what if someone had…

But he was calling. 

_He was okay._

The relief that crashed through her chest sent her heart off like a bullet, tossing a heady rush of adrenaline into her system so hard and fast it left her a little dizzy.

Alright, so she wasn’t _quite_ used to her boyfriend going out as the Green Arrow just yet. She’d get there. Eventually.

She hoped.  


Felicity’s hands were shaking as she hit the button on the comm in her ear and said, “You okay?”

“Yes,” Oliver instantly replied, and she closed her eyes for a moment. His voice dark and heavy from his modulator - still in Green Arrow mode, right. “I’m putting you on speakerphone, so…”  


“So what?” she asked, wondering if he could hear her smile as her levity flowed back just as quickly as her fingers flying over her keyboard. In the next instant she’d located them - they were still in the southeast corner of the Glades. Felicity stared at the green dot that represented Oliver, warmth replacing her adrenaline as she continued, “Is that your way of telling me to behave myself? You gonna spank me if I don’t?”  


Silence was her answer.

Felicity paused, furrowing her brow before realizing what she’d just said. 

“ _Oh!_ ” Her eyes slammed shut and she jerked back from the desk like it was on fire. “Not that you do that. Not that… the Green Arrow _spanks_ me, at all. We aren’t like that, whoever’s listening, I’m not… he’s just… Oh my god.”

Neither of them missed Diggle’s quiet snort of amusement as Oliver just sighed.

Whoever was with them, whoever they’d caught, wisely kept quiet. Oliver must have an arrow trained on them… probably fearing for his life, terrified because _the Green Arrow was right there_ , and here she was, _ruining everything with her stupid mouth._

“Oh… frak,” she breathed, burying her burning face in her hands.  


“I have the code for the tracker on the shipment,” Oliver said patiently. Despite the modulator, she didn’t miss the laughter lacing his words.  


“Right. Yes, right, I’ve got… that.” She pulled up the appropriate screen. “Give me the numbers… and then leave me here to die,” she finished under her breath as he rattled them off.  


The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/127795378359/hi-i-just-wanted-you-to-see-this-post-because-it)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!


	12. First Night Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous asked: Hi. Big fan of your writing. Could you please write a fic about the first night of Oliver and Felicity at their new place in the city? Oliver and Felicity making gently and passionate love and coming at the same time, sharing their breaths.

Felicity sighed, pressing her face deeper into the pillow.

Long day. Such a long day. It’d been a whirlwind from the second they’d woken up, to coming home, to hearing what had happened since they’d been gone - so much had happened, it was almost alarming - and then looking for a place to live before landing in the loft.

She was _tired_. Like she-could-sleep-for-seven-years sort of tired, and still wake up needing a little more rest.

They hadn’t had a lot to move, but they’d still had a lot - which made sense in a place where logic didn’t exist. Moving into Oliver’s old room should’ve been easy as pie, but it’d turned out to be semi-baked cake that kept turning into a bigger mess the deeper they got.

But it was done.

And now…

Sleep.

She didn’t move as he came into the bedroom, his soft step barely making a sound, his feet brushing over the carpet, the light swish of his sweats as he shut the door and made his way over to her. She felt the bed dip and her body rolled into it as he crawled his way up.

Oliver nuzzled the back of her bare shoulder, his stubble scratching at her sensitive skin, making her shiver. She gave him a little moan, sinking into him, letting him do whatever he wanted as long as he didn’t stop. His hand ghosted up her leg, over her waist, lightly brushing over her breasts before he gently pushed her onto her back.

Felicity smiled softly, keeping her eyes closed as she rolled over, opening herself for him as he moved over her. Oliver kept his face pressed against her shoulder as he moved, dragging his lips over her collarbone and up her neck as he settled on top of her, pressing her into the mattress with his bulk. She hummed her approval, angling her head to give him more access as she wrapped herself around him, cradling him between her hips.

For a quiet moment, they just laid there, content with just that, enjoying the quiet that had been shattered the instant they’d entered the limits of Starling City - well, _Star_ City now, they’d changed the sign and everything.

The loft was peaceful, the sound of the traffic through the open window several stories below barely a blip on their radar as they held each other, reveling in just… existing.

Felicity felt the gentle pull of sleep dragging her under again, and she started to give in, cocooned in Oliver’s warmth; protecting her, holding her… it was intoxicating, the sense of utter safety and contentment she felt there, how he just had to be near her and everything suddenly felt better; one touch from him was like a balm, and when he held her like this…

Oliver moved, pulling her back to awareness.

He inhaled deeply, breathing her in. His chest expanded, pressing against her completely before he let it out, settling on her completely, and she welcomed every inch of his weight. Felicity spread her legs wider and he moved again, making her gasp when he pressed his hard bulge right against her center.

Felicity arched her back, lifting her legs higher, letting him sink closer to her and he bent his leg for leverage, thrusting against her lightly… so lightly, barely moving, but _god_ , it felt like so much more. She didn’t feel the layers of clothes between them, or hear the steady silence in the room, or feel anything but _him_. He was everywhere, consuming her, opening himself to her, all his intent directed at her, at…

Oliver thrust harder, rubbing himself against her, and Felicity felt him swell in his pants, hardening even more. He moaned, so softly she barely heard it; the sound rumbled through his chest into her. Oliver pressed his face into her neck, pushing his arm under her shoulders, lifting her off the bed, cradling her against him as he moved. Felicity’s fingers brushed over his bare back, over his scars and tattoos, marks she’d long ago memorized, her other hand slipping up into his hair where she scraped her nails along his scalp. He sighed, his shoulders trembling slightly, their hips moving together in a dance they’d spent hours perfecting.

He shifted again, rotating his hips, brushing right over her clit. Felicity inhaled sharply, her hips jerking up as her thighs tightened around him. He did it again, and she gasped his name, her nails digging into his shoulder… he hit the same spot over and over, low simmer of pleasure burning deep inside her building. It spread through her in smooth tendrils, radiating through her chest, her arms, her legs… she felt in her toes, her fingers, every inch of her…

Oliver choked out a noise, gasping her name, rubbing harder and Felicity slid her hand under his arm and down his back, her nails scraping along until she found the band of his sweatpants. She pushed her hand into them, pressing her nails into his ass, urging him to push down harder, and he reciprocated, doing as she asked.

Felicity’s pleasure spiked, and she gave him a breathless cry as she arched her back, pressing her chest into his, hard nipples rasping through her t-shirt against his muscles.

Oliver shoved his face against her neck, halted pants dancing over her heated skin, his lips pressed against her pulse point. Felicity turned into him, kissing his temple, his ear, his cheek… holding onto him as they moved, as they rubbed, pushing each other higher, higher…

With a harsh grunt, Oliver suddenly moved, sliding his hand down their sides. He pushed his sweats out of the way, his hips stilling long enough to let his cock bounce free, his hot flesh pressing against her bare thigh, a slick bead of precum spreading over her skin. Without missing a beat, Oliver pushed his hand between them, pressing her panties out of the way and moved his hips back to let the head of his erection slip over her wet sex.

It all happened in the space of a few seconds, so quickly that Felicity barely had a second to prepare before he was pressing against her entrance, a gentle pressure filling her as he edged himself inside.

He let out a soft whine against her neck, the tiny noises slipping from his throat making her heart soar.

Oliver slowly pushed himself into her, filling her at an achingly gentle pace, letting her feel every inch of him. She was so wet already, so ready for him, and he slid into her with ease. Her inner walls clenched around him, pulling him in deeper; their whimpers of pleasure echoed each other as he filled her completely.

Pleasure infused every inch of her; he’d already had her ready, already had her pleasure building, and now…

Felicity moaned his name as he settled over her, filling her to the hilt. Oliver wrapped his arms around her completely, cradling her in his arms, banding them around her until they was nothing left but _them_.

And then he started moving.

It didn’t take long.

Oliver built a slow, steady rhythm between them; she met every single one, wrapping her legs around him as he wrapped her up in his arms. He dragged his face over hers, his stubble scraping against her until he found her lips; Oliver kissed her with such gentleness it made her ache, filled with so much love…

She felt… _cherished._

Oliver thrust into her, filling her over and over, taking her as much as she took him, giving each other everything…

Felicity let out a sob, her pleasure building even hotter - she felt it deep in her bones, deep in her center, a heat that made her tremble, made her cry out against his lips, made him shudder over her…

Oliver broke away with a heady groan, pressing his forehead to hers as his thrusts suddenly went deeper, _harder_.

They thrust against each other, chasing their release within each other, holding the other as close as possible. They breathed each other’s air, their pants growing heavier… Felicity held onto him tightly, gasping his name, her pleasure building; it _burned_ inside her… Oliver’s fingers dug into her where he held her, his hips becoming erratic, his breathing harsher… he gasped her name, the sound skating between their parted lips, and she nodded, urging him on, knowing…

Her release came on without warning. Felicity came with a short cry just as he did; they grasped each other desperately, moving without thought, without rhythm as their orgasms washed over them. Oliver moaned helplessly, the sound so perfectly breathy and gorgeous as he came inside her, filling her with his seed, spurning her orgasm on…

It was a long moment before Oliver slipped out of her, making them both whimper, and fell to the bed. His arms were still wrapped around her and he pulled her with him. Her shorts were soaked, his wet half-erect cock slipping against her as she clung to him just as much, exhaustion and satiation making their limbs heavy, their eyelids heavier.

Felicity tucked him back into his pants, tugging her shorts back into place as much as she had the energy to.

Oliver sighed mindlessly, pressing his lips to  her forehead, pulling her closer.

In the next second they were asleep, wrapped around each other. The lights were still on, shining down on them, and for a moment, a stolen perfect moment, nothing else mattered except each other.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/128346993309/hi-big-fan-of-your-writing-could-you-please)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	13. Machine Guns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver's reaction to Felicity firing a machine gun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - seetheskyaboveus: Hi, Bre! I warned you on twitter that I'll end up here lol. So everyone is thinking about smut BUT I wanted to see Oliver's reaction to the fact that Felicity (with Mr. Terrific) was attacked again. I think it's gonna be different now that they're together. I twitted about this & everyone was like: "OMG, I haven't even think about it!" I'd like to see your take on it, maybe Felicity mentioning shooting the machine gun too, but you don't have to write it if you don't feel like it. :)

The second they were outside, Felicity was only aware of three things: one, her ears were ringing like _crazy_ , she had no idea guns could be so  _loud_ , although logic certainly dictated as such; two, Curtis was looking pretty shell-shocked - he looked _pale_ , and the flashing red and blue lights were doing nothing to help his  _‘I’m going to hurl up everything I’ve ever eaten’_ look; and three…

 _Oliver_.

One second she was walking out the doors of Palmer Tech, blinking against the bright lights shining right in their faces - could the SCPD _be_ any more rude? - and the next she was being swept off her feet, a movement that made her squeak in surprise as a pair of strong, familiar arms wrapped around her so tightly breathing became a problem.

Oliver picked her up, pressing his face into her neck with a cracked, “Oh god, Felicity,” and a heavy inhale, like he was really making sure it was her.

That she was okay.

That she was alive.

She didn’t even think - Felicity wrapped herself around him just as tightly.

“I’m okay,” she whispered. “I’m okay.”

Felicity closed her eyes, feeling a hundred times safer already - for a split second, she let the real terror that had been trying to take over since they’d heard the gunshots, since she’d seen that scary tattooed guy coming _right for her_ … she let it in, and her next breath was a shaky one. Felicity shivered at the sudden adrenaline spike, her hands starting to tremble and she clutched him tighter.

Neither paid attention to the whirlwind of activity around them, to the police running past them, to the news crews, to the people trying to talk to them, to Curtis standing right there… 

“I’m okay. Really.”

“What happened?” Oliver asked gruffly, setting her down, but he didn’t let her go. In fact, he was practically _glued_  to her, and she was really okay with that. “Did you get hit, are you hurt?”  


“I’m fine. We’re fine,” Felicity said, waving at Curtis. “We make a really great team actually, especially considering we were just attacked in what is supposed to be one of the safest places in this city - they really let Ray’s security go down the drain while we were away - and also considering we’ve never really fired guns before either. Ever.”  


Curtis gave her an amused huff - a sarcastic _‘you don’t say?’_ \- shaking his head. She could read the  _‘what the hell did my life just become?’_ look all over his face.

She almost said, _“Welcome to Team Arrow initiation,”_ but she stopped herself.

“Guns?” Oliver repeated, his voice a little weak.

“Yeah,” Felicity said, nodding. “Guns. I had a machine gun.” She glanced down at her hands. “And it really makes your hands numb. Makes everything numb, actually… and kinda deaf too.”  


“You…” Oliver’s face was blank as he processed her words. “You fired a…” 

The anger and fear lacing his words was suddenly cut off when he clamped his jaw shut right before shooting poor Curtis an accusing look, a look that came straight from the Arrow - or, the Green Arrow, but they hadn’t really talked about specifics yet.

Felicity smacked Oliver’s arm in chastisement as Curtis’ hands immediately flew up and he took a quick step back, shaking his head. “Whoa, man, don’t look at me. That was all her. Your girlfriend’s a really terrifying badass.”

Felicity smiled at him, nodding her agreement - _duh_ \- before turning to give Oliver a,  _‘Really, you jerk?’_ sort of talking to when she caught Oliver opening his mouth… and then closing it again.

Oliver finally huffed out a laugh, smiling slightly.

“Yeah,” he said, shaking his head in wonder, looking back down at her. “I actually already know that.”   


She barely got a second to appreciate his words and the look of pride and amazement shining on his face before Captain Lance was on them, a hundred questions spilling from his mouth. 

Oliver and Felicity didn’t look away just yet though, taking just a second… 

The secret smile he gave her said she’d be feeling that appreciation later.

Felicity blushed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/128369102324/hi-bre-i-warned-you-on-twitter-that-ill-end-up)
> 
>  
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!


	14. You Need to Come Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when Laurel shows up on Felicity and Oliver's doorstep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - waytoomanyfeelings: How do you think the conversation with Laurel will play out between her and Olicity at their home? I'm kinda excited to see their reactions to her randomly showing up

  


“Casserole!” Felicity’s voice echoed from upstairs.  


“I’ve got it,” Oliver yelled back, pulling the foil-covered dish out of the fridge.  


“Not mine! Yours is in the blue dish!”  


He laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I have the right one.”

“If we end up poisoning our neighbor’s children, I’m blaming you. When the police come to our door because Denise and Kyle called them, I’m pointing right at you, mister.”  


“Your casserole is not that bad,” Oliver replied, grabbing his keys as he made his way out of the kitchen. 

Felicity snorted on her way down the stairs. She was gorgeous - she was _always_ gorgeous, whether she was all dressed up or wearing sweats or wearing nothing at all. She wore a light sundress and flat sandals, her lips colored in bright pink. He met her at the bottom of the stairs, one hand holding the casserole, the other wrapping around her waist. Oliver pulled her in for a chaste kiss, pulling back to see her skeptical face. 

“It isn’t. I would absolutely eat your casserole.”  


“That’s because you like to indulge my mysterious inability to properly follow recipes. I can’t even boil water without burning something.” 

He smiled - it had quickly become one of his favorite things about her, that and her refusal to give up: _“Never give up, never surrender,” she said… An hour later, she smacked the page in the cookbook she’d bought the week before. “Why doesn’t my sauce look like the sauce in the picture?”_  

Felicity scrunched her nose. “’Eating my casserole’ sounds kinda dirty.”

Oliver’s smile morphed into a grin and he leaned in, kissing her again. “I like eating you too.”

She rolled her eyes, both of them remembering where his head had been buried when he’d woken her just that morning. She nuzzled his nose. “I don’t know, I might need another reminder tonight.”

Oliver chuckled as he kissed her, holding her tighter, lifting her off her feet just enough so she had to grab his shoulders to hold on.  


“Alright,” Felicity said between kisses and he set her down. “We have to go or we’ll be late.”

“It’s a barbecue,” Oliver replied. Felicity swiped her thumb over his lips, showing him the pink remnants. He shrugged, barely finding it within himself to care. “Barbecues are things that don’t have designated arrival times.”  


“It’s called neighbor etiquette,” Felicity said. She pulled her black cardigan off the rack he’d nailed to the wall in the foyer and opened the front door. “It’s the nice thing to do when you’re…”

Felicity stopped abruptly when she saw who was waiting on the other side. Oliver halted right before he mowed her over, his eyes latching onto… 

_Laurel._

She stood on the other side, her hand hovering like she’d been ready to knock. Laurel slowly lowered her arm, giving them a little wave. “Hi, guys.”

“Laurel,” Felicity said dumbly, shaking her head slightly. “Laurel’s here.”  


“Yes, I’m here.” Laurel smiled - the smile was warm and welcoming, and Oliver felt a tug in his gut because despite their new life, he missed them… he missed his family - and then her eyes danced around the little bit of their house she could see.  


Oliver didn’t move, the casserole forgotten, the barbecue forgotten, everything forgotten. 

Laurel was here… and if she was here… it was bad.

The second of silence stretched into a minute, nobody doing anything. 

Laurel finally sighed. “I’m sorry to barge in like this, but… Could I come in?”  


“Oh!” Felicity said abruptly. “Right. Yeah, of course, come in.” She backed up right into Oliver who suddenly remembered he had feet and they both backed out of the way as Felicity waved her in. “Sorry. You’re just… we weren’t expecting you.”  


Laurel nodded. “I know. I would’ve called, but this…” She paused, biting her lip and then she met Oliver’s eyes full-on. “It’s important.”

“What’s wrong?” Oliver immediately asked.  


Laurel didn’t waste a second. “You need to come back.” 

The words were a sucker punch to the gut. Oliver stared at her. She wasn’t talking about just him, or just Felicity… she was talking about… Oliver started shaking his head, and Laurel took a step towards him, her voice growing stronger.

“Oliver, we needyou. _.._  


“The _city_ needs you.”  


His mouth was dry, his throat growing tight. “Laurel…”  


Her hand flew up. “No, wait… just hear me out. Okay?”  


Oliver blinked, so ready to say no… _No_ , he wasn’t that person anymore, he wasn’t the Arrow anymore - that person was _dead_ , and even if he hadn’t been, he didn’t _want_  to be him anymore… 

And then Felicity reached back, slipping her hand into his. She laced her fingers through his, squeezing tightly.

_Just hear me out…_

Oliver pinched his lips, and then he nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s sit down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/128417069809/how-do-you-think-the-conversation-with-laurel-will)
> 
>  
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!


	15. Pillow Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pillow talk (based on gifs from trailer for Arrow Season 4)

“Oliver…”  


“Hmm?” he asked, a soft grin on his face as he watched her. 

He could see the adorable mischievousness filling her eyes, the way her mouth parted, the way her breath hitched. She shifted closer, looking up at him and his finger moved to caress her chin before he knew what he was doing, like she was the center of gravity, and he was helpless to do anything but respond to it. 

His grin grew as delight colored her face. “What?”

“Remember when we went to the park?”  


He stared at her. “Yes.”

“And remember when you bent over to pick up that football to throw back to those guys?”  


“… yes.”

“Well… those were good pants. Great pants. A+ pants.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You want me to wear those pants again?”

Felicity grinned so brightly it was blinding. “Yes. They were _really_ great pants.”

Oliver laughed, a full-bodied laugh that made her giggle as she bit her bottom lip between her teeth, her grin growing even brighter. Oliver scooted closer, pushing the comforter out of the way to wrap his arm around her, his other hand moving to cup her cheek. She hummed her approval, meeting him halfway, nuzzling her nose against his.

He kissed her softly, once, twice…

“You want me to bend over too?” he whispered.

Felicity sighed happily, nodding. “Oh yes. All the time. I’ll be knocking stuff over all day. ‘Oops, there went the magazine. Oops, I think I dropped that pencil, Oliver, can you get for that me? Oh no, there’s a-’”

Oliver chuckled, and cut her off with a kiss.

_(i really like his pants)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/128745803979/pillow-talk-oliver-hmm-he-asked-a-soft)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!


	16. Will You Marry Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver asks Felicity to marry him, and her response parallels 3x01.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - redpensandhoodies: imagine felicity (parallel to 3x01) : this is like a proposal , proposal.. and he like well the ring and ... and she nodding yes and launching to kiss him, whats air

Oliver grabbed her elbow, pulling her to a stop.

“Oliver, what are you doing, we have to get back, you’re bleeding. _You are bleeding_ , do you not feel that gaping-”  


“Felicity…” he said, cutting her off. 

A ghost of a grin skated over his face as he shook his head - in awe, she’d say, except it was probably more in,  _‘oh god, oh god, I have a gaping hole in my shoulder, this doesn’t feel good at all, not at all’_.  


Oliver sighed, his fingers on her arm tightening.

Felicity stepped closer. “What is it?”

He looked back up at her… and her heart stopped. 

“Will you marry me?”

Felicity’s heart _dropped,_ so fast and hard it hurt. “Oliver… I… this is… hardly the time to get all…” She waved her hands. “I’m being serious here!”

“So am I.”  


“I don’t…” Was he being serious? He wasn’t being serious. Or maybe he was? Was he being serious? An incredulous smile tugged at her lips as she huffed out a chuckle. “I don’t want to read too much into this, because… well, because you are covered in blood and I’m freaking out a little - alright, _a lot_  - but… are you proposing to me? Like… actually proposing? Like proposing-proposing?”  


Oliver opened his mouth to respond… and then he stopped, his jaw snapping shut as he processed her words. 

Felicity stared at him - he wasn’t proposing. He was delirious. With blood loss.

_Because he had a giant hole in his shoulder._

“Well…” he said. “I mean the implication with the ring is…”  


“The…” All the air left her lungs. “Ring?”  


He grinned, a grin that made her feel like the sun was shining on her - it was the middle of the night, how did his smile suddenly make everything so bright, so pure, so beautiful? 

“The ring,” he said, his voice so strong and sure she started to shake. He reached inside his suit - where were there even pockets in that thing? She didn’t put pockets in there! - and pulled out… a ring.  


“Oh…”  


“Felicity Smoak,” Oliver whispered… and then he got down on one knee. _He got down on one knee_. In the middle of the alley, with his stupid hood and mask off, his leather creaking, covered in blood from _an actual hole in his body_ , his face wincing because he’d taken a hit to his bad knee.  


He was down on one knee. With a ring.

Felicity wanted to chastise him. She wanted to tell him he was being ridiculous and to at least wait until he wasn’t going to _die_ in the middle of the street because dead boyfriends were not her cup of tea… but she just stared at him, her mouth gaped as he grabbed her left hand.

“I don’t have words for how much you mean to me. You are the best thing… I’ve ever… You’re the best thing in my life. You are my best friend. My light… my heart, my… everything. I…” He shook his head suddenly. “I had this whole thing planned, before.” Before? He’d been _planning this?_  Well, obviously there was a ring, but… _before_? “But then Thea and Laurel showed up and… and I wanted to… tell you…”  


“Usually I’m the one talking in sentence fragments,” Felicity whispered, her voice full of emotion, a tear slipping down her cheek.  


He stared up at her… and then he laughed. He shook his head and leaned forward, pressing his face into the palm of her hand, dropping a soft kiss on the inside of her wrist, a delicate brush of his lips that made her chest tighten.

She almost sank to her knees right then, right next to him but he pulled back, holding her hand again. He looked up at her and she clenched his hand when she felt it trembling. Or was that her?

“Felicity, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she replied instantly, the word already slipping out before he’d finished. “Yes!” 

He blinked for a second, not sure he’d heard her… and then a grin nearly broke his face as he nodded in question, almost like he was double checking. She nodded back so hard her it made her neck hurt. 

Oliver slipped the ring on her finger - oh god, her heart just about shoved its way out of her chest because Oliver just asked her to marry him, _Oliver Queen just asked her to marry him_  - and she let out a tiny little cry.

Felicity cupped his face as she slipped to her knees next to him and kissed him with every ounce of love inside her. He returned it with equal ardor, both nodding, both laughing… they were both smiling, kissing teeth and lips, clashing against each other.

“Yes?” he whispered.

Felicity nodded. “Yes. So much yes, so much…”

“I love you,” Oliver said. “I love you so much.” He pulled her in close and she held him back just as hard… as hard as she dared, at least.  


“I love you too… so much that I’m going to smack you _so hard_  when we get your arm fixed for doing this right now, when you’re bleeding all over the place. Come on.”  


Oliver laughed, pushing his face into her neck for one more second, inhaling deeply before letting out a heavy sigh.

“I’m so happy,” he breathed, and tears blurred her vision as she smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/128814697769/imagine-felicity-parallel-to-3x01-this-is-like)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!


	17. Hair-Tie Ring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity asks Oliver to marry her, in a very unconventional manner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - tahoma-italic: You know what would be great? If they paralleled Oliver's failed proposal attempt with a successful one from Felicity. Seriously, you really ruined me with the concept of Felicity proposing. I'll hold on to it until the very end.

His internal clock told him it was barely three in the morning when he felt her moving.

Oliver’s arms instinctively tightened around her, pulling her closer, pressing his chest to her warm back, sprawling his hand over her tight abdomen.

She’d lost weight, a lot of weight, over the last few months, ever since Darhk had kidnapped him, ever since he’d been held hostage for three weeks… ever since she’d still had to go to work, to play the role she was born to of the CEO, ever since her dad had appeared, ever since Diggle had fallen off the map, ever since Thea had _killed_ …

A lot had happened, and it’d taken its toll. There was a lot to fix, a lot to change… so little of it was within their control, so Oliver grasped at the things he _could_  do. After he’d gotten out of the hospital, he’d made it his unspoken mission to cook for her every single night they were home before midnight, the sort of meals she’d once yelled at him for, when she’d lamented about  _gaining_ weight…

Now when she saw the triple-layer lasagna, the one he’d learned to make in Italy when she’d thought it’d be fun to take a cooking class together, she just smiled.

And had seconds.

Felicity shifted and Oliver pulled her closer, not letting her go.

She didn’t get up. 

She twisted in his arms, her hand snaking up to yank her ponytail out, her hair falling across his face and chest.

Oliver hummed, still not opening his eyes, cuddling her closer, breathing her in. He reveled in the smell of her shampoo, the light trace of her perfume, the faint scent of dinner - that night it’d been chicken kabobs with peppers and asparagus - and just Felicity.

He expected her to lay back down, cuddle up against him, throw her leg over his and shove her cold nose into the crook of his neck… but instead she ran her fingers down his left arm, following it down to his hand that was still wrapped around her.

She tangled her fingers in his and pulled them away from her. As Oliver grunted his disapproval, Felicity brought his hand to her face. She pressed a gentle kiss to the center of his palm, peppering a few more up to his fingers… up his ring finger.

Oliver opened his eyes. 

She was still pressed up against him, lying on her side, the entire length of her body touching his in some way as she cradled his hand. The soft moonlight filtering through the open window highlighted her porcelain skin \- she’d also gotten paler - as well as the new scar still healing along her hairline. It matched the ones on her arm and back, from the arrows…

He stopped the memory before it gained any traction, focusing back on her warm lips. He watched her, smiling when she glanced over.

“Hi,” she whispered, dragging her finger down the center of his palm.

“Hi.” Oliver blinked lazily, stretching his back slightly before settling against her again. His voice was scratchy and low with sleep. “What are you doing?”

“Thinking,” she replied simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Mm…” Oliver snuggled in closer to her. He closed his eyes, pressing his face against her shoulder, kissing her through her thin t-shirt.  “What about?”

“A question.” She fumbled with his hand for a second, something soft brushing over his fingers before it was gone.

“What question?” he asked, his voice growing deeper as the addicting tendrils of sleep started pulling at him again.

Felicity placed something at the top of his ring finger - something springy - and started rolling it down. Oliver’s eyes snapped open in confusion and he moved his head enough so he could see what she was doing.

His heart stuttered when he saw her hair tie twisted into a tight circle sliding down his ring finger. On his left hand. Where a wedding ring was supposed to be. 

Oliver’s heart suddenly took off, pounding away inside his chest so hard he wondered if she felt it. 

She wasn’t…

Was she…

He froze, blood pounding through his limbs at an alarming pace as she pushed it all the way down, adjusting it before nodding. She sighed and pulled his hand back to her lips, kissing the makeshift ring.

“Felicity, what…” His voice cracked and he stopped, swallowing past the lump that was lodged in his throat. “Are you…”

“Asking you to marry me in a really weird and unconventional manner in the middle of the night?” she finished, turning her head to face him. 

Oliver forgot how to breathe.

She was perfectly calm, perfectly serene, not an ounce of nervousness or worry or fear or desperation on her face.

“Will you marry me, Oliver?” she whispered, her eyes dancing over his face before she met his eyes.

He’d been waiting, ever since Laurel and Thea had shown up all those months ago, he’d been waiting for the perfect moment. He stared at the ring he’d gotten one month into their road trip almost every single day, carrying it with him sometimes, thinking about it, planning, _waiting_ … but the perfect time never came. 

Because there was no perfect time. There was just this… perfection in every second, every moment, every touch, every look, _everything_ …

Felicity smiled, a smile of pure love and trust, a smile filled with the promise of their future - _together_ \- and the promise that no matter what happened… they’d make it.

_Together._

“Yes,” he breathed. _“Yes.”_  

Her grin widened just a little, like she’d already known the answer. 

 _Of course_ she’d already known. She was cool as a cucumber, asking him one of the most life-altering questions anyone could ask like she’d just asked if he was wearing his socks to bed… because she’d already known.

She’d always known. 

“Yes.” Oliver let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head in wonder. He tangled their fingers together and dragged her hand up to her face, his thumb running over her cheek. “Yes.”

“So that’s a yes then?” Felicity asked, her grin widening even more and he laughed, kissing her softly.

“Definitely a yes,” he whispered against her lips. “Yes.”

(Later that night, Felicity tried to slip the “ring” off to tie her hair back but he kept it. If it wasn’t on his finger, it was on his wrist… until the day they got married.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/128957635979/you-know-what-would-be-great-if-they-paralleled)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!


	18. We're Getting Married?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity asks Oliver to marry her, mirroring how Lorelai proposed to Luke in Gilmore Girls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous: After reading your fic, I now desperately want Felicity to be the one to propose on the show. Like we could see several instances throughout the season where Oliver tries but gets interrupted for whatever reason, and then surprise! Felicity ends up being the one to do it. I've read meta before about how Olicity reverses a lot of gender norms as well, and I this would fit perfectly into that. Also it'd be so cute seeing Oliver's reaction, he wouldn't even hesitate, like with Luke & Lorelai on GG

“Will you marry me?”  


“What?”  


“Oliver… will you-”  


“Yes.”  


His abrupt answer caught her off guard and Felicity blinked. “Well, you don’t have to ans-”  


“Yes.”  


“You can take a minute to-”  


“No.”  


Felicity stared up at him where he stood before her, still wearing his Arrow gear, his bow still in-hand, his hood back… and a giant smile on his lips.

“Oh…” 

She just… stared at him. She’d honestly expected something less… no, something _more,_ something along the lines of,  _‘Wow,_ _this is really fast, maybe we should slow down,’_  but instead, here he was, staring at her like… 

“Oh.”

Suddenly everything _clicked_.

All the interrupted dinner dates, the nervous smiles that only appeared on certain nights, nights when it was supposed to be just them before something came up, nights when he fiddled with something in his pocket, nights she’d attributed his fidgetiness to the current catastrophe rocking their world, to something that had been bothering him earlier…

His abruptly cut-off words when he changed his mind…

The special dinners he cooked that somehow always ended up including an extra guest - usually Thea - for whatever reason that came up…

His playing with her hand when he thought she was asleep, the tip of his finger tracing her ring finger…

It all suddenly made sense… and wow, she was an incredibly dense idiot.

“Oh.”

Oliver grinned, setting his bow down. He dropped to his knees before her, pulling her chair closer, forcing her to spread her legs to make room for him. They instinctively curled around him as he wrapped his hands around her waist.

“We’re getting married?” Felicity whispered, cupping his face, and his grin grew, his stubble scraping her palms as he nodded. “We’re getting married.”  


“We’re getting married,” he said and he pulled back just enough to unzip his jacket and pull out a long chain. She furrowed her brow - since when did he wear that? - until she saw the ring it held. “I’ve been carrying this around for a very, very long time.”  


He didn’t bother pulling it off just yet. Instead he grabbed her left hand and slid it on her ring finger, still on the chain wrapped around his neck.

“Oh wow,” she breathed, a surge of tears blurring the ring before she blinked them away. She stared at it - it was _stunning_ , perfect… and then she giggled, covering her mouth. 

This was _real_. She was getting _married_. To _Oliver_. 

Oh wow… 

Felicity looked back at him and nodded. “Yes.”  


“You already asked,” he whispered and she laughed, shaking her head, making him chuckle. “Yes.”

“Yes,” she repeated, nodding. She cupped his face again. “I’m really glad we’re on the same page.”  


Oliver laughed, hugging her close, pulling her flush against him. Felicity wrapped herself around him tightly and pulled back just enough to press her lips to his, sealing the deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/129018096159/after-reading-your-fic-i-now-desperately-want)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!


	19. Back Massage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity gives Oliver a back massage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous: can you do an Olicity fic set in season 4 where Felicity is sitting on Oliver while he's lies on the mattress giving him a back massage? obviously it turns smutty ;)

Felicity slid her fingers up his spine, dragging her nails over the rough terrain until she reached the base of his neck where she gripped him softly, digging her fingers in. He hummed, angling his head to give her more access as she moved her fingers around, massaging the muscles there until she found a little knot. He grunted and she dug her thumb in, rubbing the spot harder, making him flinch slightly until it gave away.

Just as she had for the last ten minutes, she spread her hands out and dug into his shoulders, squeezing before moving down to his shoulder blades, using the palms of her hands.

_“Palms, use your palms,” he said, his head jerking up. “Your fingers are so tiny and sharp.”_

_“My fingers are not sharp, Oliver, that’s ridiculous. They are finely honed dull nubs from typing since birth.”_

_“Sharp nubs,” he retaliated, burying his face back in the pillow and she poked him in the side, making him jerk with a spontaneous laugh, shoving her up in the process where she was seated on his back._

_“I’ll show you sharp nubs,” she said, tickling him again, making him giggle as he tried to turn around to stop her._

Oliver sighed, relaxing into the mattress.

She made her way down his back.

Her hands were tired. They didn’t have this kind of stamina, they weren’t built for this kind of stamina. No, they were made for coding and using tiny little tools to take little things apart and put them back together, not for the brute strength of giving a guy who was literally made of muscle a back massage. They both knew this, that she didn’t really make a dent on the deep, deep strains he managed to get, especially now that he was back on the streets again, not like the massages he gave her, but that wasn’t the point.

The point was that he loved it when she straddled his ass as she was right then, loved it when she gave him massages, alternating between dragging her fingernails down his back and rubbing out the tiny little kinks she did manage to find. The noises he made were muffled where his face was hidden in the comforter, but she felt them vibrating through him, his little moans, his soft sighs, prefacing his muscles systematically relaxing as she made her way down one more time.

It had taken several weeks when they first left Starling City for him to finally lay down without a single ounce of tension in his body, to close his eyes without the constant need to be vigilant, to let his muscle melt until he was a messy pile of Oliver on the bed, letting himself go, completely open to whatever she wanted to do to him, for him.

That was the part she loved.

Oliver had the very distinct ability to render her completely useless - make her bones disappear, her insides melt, her brain go fuzzy - so when it was her turn…

Felicity smiled as she worked her way down his spine, reaching the large burn scar across his lower back. She switched back to her thumbs - the scar was thick and ropey, and one of the places she was definitely allowed to use her ‘sharp nubby fingers’ since it provided extra cushion. He groaned into the bed as she dug in, and she felt the tension sliding out of his body.

He’d been collecting far too much of it recently, all of it coming on in a sudden, almost detrimental swoop since they’d come back. First it was dealing with the Ghosts and Darhk, and then Thea and the ramifications of the Lazarus Pit, vague reports that someone matching Sara’s description was killing people near Nanda Parbat, rumors that the newest mayoral candidate had an ugly agenda…

The state of the city _in general_ …

He’d accepted that he wasn’t in this alone anymore, that there were people there to help, people that wanted to help, but that didn’t stop him from soaking all the stress up like an insatiable sponge, stress that resided predominately in the hidden crevices of his body, changing the way he walked, the way he held himself… he’d become stiffer, more disciplined - painfully in control. It was a harsh one-eighty from what she’d seen a short month ago, when the most stressful thing they had to worry about was a broken sprinkler head in the front lawn and a robotic call from the HOA.

So… despite the sudden changes in their life, the new upheavals, the fact that they were back in the city, in a loft that had seen more bloodshed and anger than happiness… that he still let himself go like this, with her, still let himself relax so completely, trusting her to take care of him, to care for him…

It had a deep-seated satisfaction warming her chest as she ran her hands up his back again, using her weight to apply pressure.

His body moved with her movements, going wherever she went, not fighting it.

His breathing grew deeper, evening out, his soft moans the only indication he was awake still.

Barely.

Felicity sat up more fully on his butt and wiggled.

A muscle in his back twitched and she bit her lip, smiling.

She did it again, and this time the muscle twitched and she got a soft, “Mmm,” out of him.

Felicity pushed her fingers up his spine and instead of wiggling, she arched her back and pressed panties-clad sex down against him, rubbing…

“Whatcha doin’?” he asked languidly, his tone matching his body and she shook her head with a grin, whispering, “Nothing.”

She pressed herself down against his ass again, inhaling sharply when she got the friction she’d been looking for.

“Felicity…” he breathed, shifting under her… Oliver pushed his ass up, thrusting up into her, and she gasped.

“What do you think _you’re_ doing?” Felicity asked and she could hear the grin in his voice as he said, “Nothing.”

“Mmhmm,” she hummed.

Felicity sat up and tugged her shirt off, dropping it soundlessly on the bed next to them. She shivered when cool air bit at her bare breasts before she leaned over him, massaging his shoulders again… and then she slid her hands down his arms.

Her pebbling nipples dragged over his hot back and he hissed a gentle, “Felicity,” as she braced her hands on his biceps, dragging her breasts over him, back and forth, over and over. His shifted underneath her again, but she had him pinned \- they both knew he could damn well get up if he really wanted to, that he just had to breath and he’d have her flipped, but he didn’t… he stayed, letting her run her hard nipples over him, the sharp contrast of his hot skin and the cool air making them grow tighter.

“If you don’t stop…” he started and she huffed out a quiet laugh, rocking her hips against him. Oliver groaned. “Felicity…”

“What?” she asked innocently, the words coming out breathless as she started an easy rhythm. “I’m just giving you a massage…”

Her eyes fluttered shut as a low, dull pleasure started to burn between her legs. It spread through her slowly, taking its time, a low flame she felt in her bones. Her nipples grew more sensitive with each second, and with each drag down his naked back, her breasts became heavier, needier…

Oliver moved in time with her, rubbing himself into the mattress, lifting his hips up against hers.

He let out a desperate gasp and Felicity dug her nails into his biceps in response. His muscles contracted at the sudden sharpness, and then she felt them tightening in a different way, telling her he was making fists and getting ready to get up.

“Uh-uh,” Felicity said, instantly stopping. She sat up, settling fully against his ass again as Oliver’s head popped up, twisting to look back at her. She pushed on his shoulders until he was laying down again. “Nope, none of that.”

“Felicity,” he said in protest, his voice heavy with a mixture of bone-deep relaxation and unsatiated need, and he jerked his hips up. She stiffened as it sent a streak of pleasure through her, and he immediately did it again, making her gasp.

Felicity pinched his neck.

“Ow…” he groaned.

“Don’t move,” she said, her words sending a little shiver down spine, followed quickly by a quiet huff as he did just that.

Felicity leaned over him, blanketing his body with hers.

Oliver sighed, moving underneath her, but he didn’t move to get up. She pressed a soft kiss at the base of his neck and slowly worked her way down, twisting her head slowly, sending her hair cascading over his back. He shivered again, goosebumps erupting under her fingertips and lips.

Felicity took her time, moving to kiss the now bare spot where his dragon tattoo had once been. There was barely an outline left there anymore, the laser having eradicated most of the ink. It hadn’t been a deep tattoo, obviously not done by a professional, but when the laser tech saw his back - the scars, the harshly cut muscle - any questions she might’ve had had about how he got it immediately died.

But now… it was gone, erased, leaving just him, just Oliver once more. No more inked reminders of people he’d lost, of revenge, of pain and suffering.

He’d brought it up a few months into their trip, when they’d found their house - the house that was still theirs, the house waiting for them… for them to come back.

The dragon had been a reminder for so long, something he’d kept because he’d so steadfastly believed he deserved to carry the burden… it’d been his fault, he had to suffer for it…

_“For a long while, I kept telling myself I kept it because I loved Shado. That I could turn something ugly into something good, that it was my way of carrying her legacy. He… Slade, he’d given it to me as a reminder of what’d happened to her, of what I’d… done to her. But I didn’t… want to.”_

_His voice barely reached her where she laid perched on his back, her fingernail tracing the path the dragon took._

_“But it doesn’t remind me of Shado, not like I want to remember her. He was right. I only see what happened to her… to him… how he…”_

_Oliver sighed, the movement lifting her up before he settled again._

_“But now… it doesn’t feel like my shoulder. It feels like it belongs to someone else, someone I used to be, someone who wasn’t willing to let go. But I have.”_

_His words hit her like a punch to the stomach. Her finger faltered over his tattoo, and Felicity paused before she blurted out the first thing that came to mind._

_She bit her tongue in hesitation… and then she whispered, “Why don’t you get it removed?”_

Now it was just…

Oliver.

And it was perfect.

His shoulder twitched when she pressed a kiss to the spot and she pressed herself against him more fully.

Oliver lifted his head, turning enough to press a kiss to the hair falling over his shoulder.

She smiled… and then worked her way down.

He sighed when she hit a certain spot and moaned when she dragged her tongue down to the base of his spine. Felicity straddled his thighs, and a second later, he spread them a little, forcing her to spread her legs as well.

She nipped at him in reprimand, making him chuckle.

Felicity hooked her fingers into his boxer briefs and slowly pulled them down, revealing his beautifully toned ass inch by inch. He shifted again, lifting his hips slightly, but she didn’t move them enough to free his erection… she moved them just enough so she could…

She pressed a soft kiss to one cheek, and he flinched in surprise, moaning quietly. Felicity pulled the boxers lower, rolling them out of the way, kissing every bit of skin as she exposed it, sucking on one spot, her teeth grazing another. Oliver’s breathing slowly grew heavier, more erratic, and the soft hiss of the sheets shifting met her ears as he moved, making fists in the comforter…

“Felicity…” he whispered, his muscles clenching under her touch.

She suddenly tugged his boxers down with more force and he lifted his hips, the briefs sliding over the very hard erection he sported, the one he arched his back to rub against the mattress, making him shudder. She pulled the briefs down so they were right beneath his ass and she sat up again, running her hands up both cheeks.

Oliver loved her butt. _He_ _loved it_. His hands always managed to find a way to migrate down, no matter what position they were in, what state of undress or where they were, he always got a healthy handful and _squeezed_ , especially when he was yanking her closer, spreading her cheeks as she spread her legs for him.

Squeezing her thighs together slightly at the memory, Felicity settled against his legs and gripped his ass tight, making his own fists tighten, his body stiffening as he kept himself still. Her hands continued up, over his toned muscles and up his back as she leaned over him, her hands pressing down hard into his muscles.

She pressed her breasts against his ass, lifting herself just enough to drag her nipples over him just as she had before…

He trembled beneath her, his muscles tightening…

Felicity moaned.

“God,” Oliver breathed loudly, barely getting the word out.

In the next breath he was moving.

He pushed himself up and twisted just as she sat up, a surprised noise falling from her lips, his movement forcing her legs apart to accommodate him. One second he was on his stomach and in the next he was on his back, his erection standing tall before he sat up and yanked her against his chest.

“Oliver, what…!” she yelped before he flipped them. The mattress bounced as she landed in the pillows, laughing, holding onto his shoulders as he pushed her legs apart, settling between them, barely getting out a, “Hey, I wasn’t…” before Oliver shoved himself up over her, her hands sliding down to grip his forearms as he braced himself on his hands and pushed his rock hard cock against her.

“Done,” she finished in a breathy gasp.

Oliver stared down at her with dark, hooded eyes, his face a play of intent shadows as he towered over her. He pressed himself against her again, his heavy length sliding over her clothed sex and Felicity choked out a whimper, digging her nails into his arms as he did it again… and again.

Her mouth dropped open in a silent pant, their eyes locked together as he slowly - _slowly_ \- moved against her, applying just enough pressure to feel him through her soaked panties, her arousal making everything slick.

“Oliver,” she panted, spreading her legs wider, letting him settle even further against her. With his next thrust, her panties moved, and his cock slid through her juices. Oliver gave her a desperate grunt, dark pleasure slipping over his features, matching her own.

Felicity wrapped her legs around him, pressing her feet against as ass, urging him to push down harder.

Oliver arched his back and slid right against her clit.

“Oh god,” Felicity whimpered, her eyes sliding shut as she blindly reached for him, the suddenly harsh cotton of her panties getting caught on the little nub before they slipped over it, exposing her to his hot flesh. She gripped his arm as tight as she could, her other hand wrapping around his neck, urging him closer to her as he moved his hips back, the head of his cock slipping through her wetness and up and over her clit again, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure straight to her center. “Oh god, yes…”

“Felicity…” he gasped, and she felt the comforter he was fisting around her move as he tightened his grip… and then he suddenly sat up, taking the delicious pleasure with him. Felicity’s eyes flew open as his fingers found her panties and he tugged them down, pulling her legs up, sliding them up and off, grunting, “Why are you wearing these?”

“Because,” she said, swallowing as he slid her panties off. “I’m a loving girlfriend who was giving her boyfriend a nice platonic massage.”

He chuckled, an amused, “Platonic,” slipping out before he threw her panties over his shoulder. Oliver gripped her legs, sliding his hands to her inner thighs where he pushed them apart as he slid down the bed. His fingers dipped down towards her sex, spreading her wet puffy lips, tugging on the sensitive flesh as he settled before her.

“Oh yes, yes, yes,” Felicity moaned, her back arching off the bed as much as she could before he pushed her legs back up, his large hands blanketing the back of her thighs, opening her aching sex to his hungry gaze. Felicity watched him between her legs with glazed eyes, watched the way he licked his lips, the way he inhaled her scent, his fingers digging into her muscle…

Oliver didn’t waste a second.

He pushed her legs apart, spreading her even more, before his mouth found her clit.

White hot pleasure shot through her as he sucked it into his mouth, his tongue pushing the hood back before he flicked it over the sensitive pearl.

“Oh god!” Felicity shouted, her hips shooting off the bed to get closer to him but he pushed her back down and sucked, flattening his tongue, rubbing it across her clit, over and over. “Oliver!”

He was relentless, like he had to taste all of her, have all of her, make her come hard and fast, force her to the edge, force her up…

Oliver held her down and _sucked_ , sending fiery flames scorching across her nerves from the inside out as he built her pleasure up with a single-minded intent. Felicity clawed at their bedspread, helpless noises falling from her throat as she concentrated on him, on his mouth, on what he was doing to her…

Her release built so hot and fast it left her limbs tingling with a searing heat as every bit of blood in her body rushed towards her center.

“Ooh… god,” Felicity whined, her hips jerking against his mouth, against his tongue as he sucked and licked, concentrating right where she…

Oliver pulled away just as she hit that blessed peak.

“Wait, wait,” she gasped, “Please, please, Oliver, wait…”

Her hands scrambled for purchase, to find his head, to pull him back where she needed him to _never stop,_ but he didn’t heed her.

Instead Oliver crawled up her body, dropping wet sloppy kisses across her stomach, her ribs.

Felicity whined her displeasure, pushing her hands into his hair, making tight fists, her hips thrusting up against the cool air in their room, still feeling the ghostly imprint of his mouth on her, of the orgasm he’d just been about to give her, the deep, dark pleasure he’d been…

He reached her breasts and wrapped his mouth around one of her nipples, his tongue instantly swirling around it, shoving it against the roof of his mouth.

“Oh god!” Felicity cried out, her back arching at the sudden onslaught of sensation, but he didn’t stay there. He dragged his face up her chest, his stubble leaving scratches and abrasions as his lips found her throat, forcing her head back to make room for him. His face was wet - _with her_ \- his kisses on her soft skin hard and needy, a mixture of sucking and nipping that made her whimper for him.

Oliver shoved pillows out of the way as he settled over her, his hard cock sliding through her wetness. Her entrance clenched, the stark feeling of emptiness making her bones physically ache, knowing he was right there… He reached down and pushed her leg up to her chest, spreading her open again.

“Yes,” Felicity gasped, nodding erratically, her hands finding his face, gripping him tightly, pulling him closer. “Oliver…!”

He pulled back, the head of his cock slipping over her swollen clit and down to her opening…

Oliver thrust into her, hard and heavy, pushing her up against the headboard.

Her sharp shout filled the room as he filled her, his body falling over hers, their lips crashing together. They swallowed each other’s cries, taking in each other’s their moans and gasps as they moved. Oliver pushed her leg up higher, forcing him deeper, and Felicity wrapped her other leg around him, anchoring herself against him so she could meet his thrusts, pulling him down harder and harder.

The sound of their pelvises slapping against each other echoed against the walls, the mattress squeaking softly, the bed groaning under his assault. He thrust into her without rhythm, a wild pace made of pure power and desire. They moved against each other, her nails digging into his cheeks, his hand holding her leg tighter, his other slipping under her shoulder, pulling her down to meet him with even more ferocity.

She cried out against his lips and he took in every bit of it, just as she took in his frantic moans.

The release he’d been pushing her towards a quick second ago, the release his tongue had sinfully pushed her up on suddenly peaked and it lit an inferno deep in her core.

Felicity came without warning, the pleasure crashing through her with an acute sharpness that left her breathless. She cried out against his mouth as wave after wave soared through her, sending her higher.

He thrust harder, his harsh grunts vibrating through his chest into her, his grip on her leg tightening to the point of pain…

Oliver came with a short shout that split through the room as he broke away from her, his forehead landing on hers painfully. He fell against her, his seed spilling into her, filling her, his needy cries consuming her as he gave her everything he had, her walls clamping down around him over and over, taking all of him…

He finally collapsed on top of her, burying her in the remaining pillows.

He released her leg and she let it fall limply, trying to remember how to breathe, how to do… anything.

Oliver tried to move, to push himself up, but he didn’t have the strength, falling on top of her again with a pitiful, “Oh god.”

Felicity accepted every bit of it, wrapping her arms around him, enjoying his weight pushing her down, the blissful moment where it was just… _perfect_ , before he became too heavy, before something started falling asleep.

 _Perfect_.

She cradled him closer, and he slowly moved, brushing his face against hers. Their lips found each other once more, this kiss softer, gentler… loving. Felicity moaned, tasting herself on him.

“So,” she sighed, kissing him again. He hummed, waiting for her to continue, nuzzling his nose against hers. “Talk about a happy ending, huh?”

Oliver snorted out a laugh and she giggled.

The combined movement had his half-erect cock shifting inside her and they both groaned at the same time, at the assault on their sensitive flesh.

“Ooh, no more laughing,” she whispered, shaking her head and he nodded in agreement. “Happy endings… are…” Oliver chuckled, once more. “They definitely have laughing, but not this one, nope… I mean, it does, but not at the same time. This isn’t a laughing moment, this is a _basking_ moment… or whatever. This really sounded better in my head.”

Oliver smiled - a perfectly beatifically, simple and content smile that warmed every inch of her - whispering, “God, I love you,” before he kissed her again.

Felicity grinned, holding him closer.

“I love you too.”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/129643165444/can-you-do-an-olicity-fic-set-in-season-4-where)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!


	20. Color Schemes, Galas and Oliver's Tongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver's tongue is distracting Felicity from an important phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - onlyhere4olicity: "Well, that's not the color I would've chosen, but let's go with it"

**“Well, that’s not the color I would’ve chosen, but let’s go with it.”**

“Uh-huh,” Felicity replied, her eyes fluttering shut, struggling to keep her focus on the phone… phone call. Important phone call… about important things, like… galas, and menus and… guests, important guests tonight, important for… business and such… and tongues and lips and… licking, and _sucking_ …

“And I did get an RSVP from Mr. Kellan, so he will be attending tonight. I already have the papers for him drawn up…”

Felicity nodded, barely hearing what her assistant was saying. She clenched the phone tightly, her other flying to the bedspread, making a tight fist in the sheets, struggling to breathe while not making any noise.

He gripped the top of her thigh, keeping her leg pressed to his shoulder while his other kept her hip nailed down to the bed, effectively stopping her from wrenching away again to take the call.

It was important that everything went well tonight… the unveiling the new company name… and she was the CEO, she had to…

His tongue slid through her wet sex, outlining her puffy nether lips teasingly, tracing her clenching entrance, _tasting_ her…

Despite her best efforts, a whimpered, “Oh god,” slipped out.

“What?” Callie said on the other end of the phone and Felicity’s chest seized, her eyes flying open again.

“Nothing!” she blurted, and she felt Oliver grinning between her legs, his teeth brushing against her mound before he wrapped his lips around her clit. Her hand flew to the back of his head and she fisted a handful of hair as all the air in her body evaporated. Her mouth flew open, her throat clamping down to keep herself quiet as he slid his tongue…

Felicity gasped and he leaned forward, _dragging_ his tongue down her clit. He slid it back up, swirling around her… She inhaled a desperate whimper and smacked the top of his head in quick succession, trying to say, _‘Stop, stop, I can’t concentrate, I can’t… I don’t… Don’t stop, don’t stop…!’_

“Ms. Smoak, did you hear me?”

“Yes, yes, I did, sorry, I’m just… getting ready,” she breathed, and Oliver’s fingers tightened in amusement. Well, she _would_ be… eventually. Soon. _Hopefully._ Oliver rocked his head against her, his tongue doing painfully sinful things, his chin scraping against her, his stubble…

He built her pleasure with ridiculous accuracy, knowing exactly what to do, where to touch her, how hard to suck…

_It was too much._

“Okay, thank you for getting those glasses,” Felicity said abruptly, her voice strained. “A-and that’s great news about the Mellers being… going there…”

“What?”

Was she saying the wrong thing? She couldn’t _concentrate_ … not when his tongue was…

_Oh god!_

“Okay, that’s great, Callie,” Felicity said abruptly. “Thank you, I’ll see you tonight.”

“But Ms. Smoak…”

He was going back down, his tongue slipping _into her_ …

Felicity’s hips bucked up against his face, her back arching off the bed as she said rapidly, “Yes, yes, that works too, okay, bye.”

“But…”

Felicity hung the phone up without looking, letting it fall to the bed, her hands flying to the back of Oliver’s head.

“Oh my god, you are in so much trouble,” Felicity keened and Oliver chuckled, sending delicious vibrations skating across her sensitive flesh, making her inhale sharply.

He suddenly stopped teasing her, and a moment later, Felicity’s pleasured cries were echoing through the loft as her phone buzzed with missed call after missed call…

It slowly got buried in the sheets as he pinned her down for round two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/129953342209/well-thats-not-the-color-i-wouldve-chosen-but)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!


	21. Suspenders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity attend a gala where Oliver will be announcing his mayoral candidacy where she notices he's wearing suspenders.

He spotted her almost immediately.

It was hard not to in the gorgeous blue dress she’d made The Face at when she’d seen it online; he was pretty sure it was similar to the look he was wearing as she turned, her eyes finding his. 

He hadn’t seen her in it yet, she’d had to get dressed at the office and meet him there… and he was almost glad, because then they’d be a little late if he’d had to stare at her shoulders as they were now - _god, he loved her shoulders, they were perfect_ \- and the gentle slope of her neck her upswept hair revealed. She was elegance personified and when she moved, the dress moved with her, highlighting the lines of her body.

Definitely a good idea he hadn’t seen her before the fundraiser. It wouldn’t be a good starting off point to arrive late to his own mayoral candidate announcement gala.

Felicity smiled, biting her bottom lip slight as she always did when she knew he appreciated what he saw, and made her way over.

It took Oliver a second to tear his eyes off her to see that Diggle was with her, which meant Lyla was somewhere there too. His chest tightened for a split second at that. Oliver hadn’t been sure he’d come, for obvious reasons, but he _was_ there and it… it steadied him. 

There was still an ocean of things to work through… but Diggle was there, to support him, and it helped calm the nerves eating at his stomach.

“Hey,” he said to the other man, nodding, and he got a nod in return.

The broken bridge was mending, _slowly_ … but it was mending.

“Fancy meeting you here, Mr. soon-to-be Mayoral Candidate,” Felicity said, grinning, wrapping her arm around his waist, giving him a chaste kiss. He wanted more, but the last time he’d gotten more at one of these things, he’d walked away with more than a little bit of her lipstick on his lips, which hadn’t faded until the next morning.  


“That is going to take me a second to get use to,” Oliver said, scrunching his nose at her, making her smile wider, which made him relax even more. His fingers grazed over shoulders, her very, very bare shoulders, and when he felt the tiny hitch in her breathing, felt her hand tightening around his waist for a split second, he smirked, dragging his fingertips over her shoulder blade.

“This is exactly why I got dressed at the office,” Felicity whispered, squeezing his waist a little harder, and he chuckled.  


“Can I get a picture, please?” a photographer asked, swooping down on them.  


“Yes, of course!” Felicity said, stepping up, her arm still wrapped around Oliver, her other snaking around Diggle, pulling him into the fray. A perturbed look crossed Diggle’s face before Felicity’s bright smile won him over and he turned, giving the camera a patient look. The camera flashed and the photographer checked his screen, nodding his thanks before Diggle spotted something over Oliver’s shoulder.

“I do believe I see my wife,” he said, already moving to meet Lyla. “And she’s carrying two very full glasses of champagne.” He smiled, nodding his head in that direction. “I’ll be over there, you two.”  


“Hey,” Oliver said, stopping him for a moment. “Thank you for coming.”

Diggle smiled. “Of course, man.”  


Oliver turned to watch him go, getting a warm smile from Lyla as Felicity said, “This is a really great turnout, Oliver.”

“Yeah,” Oliver replied, nodding, his eyes skating over the growing crowd, knowing any second now his campaign manager was going to run up and throw him into the mess, ordering him to meet and greet until his face was numb.  


“You’re going to do great,” Felicity said, pushing her arm into his jacket for a hug…

And then she froze.  


He knew instantly what she’d found.

“Oliver,” she said patiently, keeping her face calm as she looked around to make sure nobody was too close to them. “Are you wearing suspenders?”

He grinned, knowing _exactly_  what she was thinking.

“Do you remember the last time you wore suspenders?” she asked, finally turning back to him with raised eyebrows.

Did he _remember?_

Did he remember her pulling him out of the large ballroom, shoving him into an office they managed to find on the first floor and yanking his jacket off, gripping his suspenders in tight fists as she’d pushing him back until they ran into a desk, her lips finding his? 

Did he remember the little gasp she’d given him when he’d picked her up and spun, depositing her on the flat surface, her hands leaving the suspenders long enough to undo his pants as he’d pushed her dress up, his fingers slipping under her thong to find her already ready for him?

Did he remember how she’d hung onto his suspenders as he’d thrust into her, filling her in a way that made her cry out his name, her grip only tightening as he braced himself on the desk and pounded into her until she was weeping with pleasure?

“I remember,” he whispered, and before anyone could pull him away he dipped down and wrapped his lips around her earlobe for a split second, nipping at it with his teeth, eliciting that precious gasp from her. “And I know this place has quite a few offices on the second floor.”  


“Oliver…” she breathed, both in warning and with _need_ , a need he felt just as powerfully… when Sander suddenly appeared.

“There you are, Oliver!” the man said, clapping his hand on Oliver’s shoulder, pulling him away from Felicity. “Save the PDA for later, you two, I’ve got people this man needs to meet.”  


As Sander dragged him away, Oliver managed one more glance back at his girlfriend and felt a rush of pride and anticipation when he saw how flushed she was, her eyes closed as she reigned in what he’d started.

He grinned, and that grin carried him through most of the night until he was able to get away, pulling her behind him until they found an office where she proceeded to nearly rip his jacket in her haste to get it off him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/130183901764/suspenders-olicity-s4)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!


	22. You'll Have Time (4x01 spec)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Anonymous - Um yeah I'm gonna need follow up smut to the new clip where he leans in for the kids and sufficiently keeps her occupied before the conference call pls ;) hope you've had a good weekend! I admit been stalking your blog xoxo

  


  
songbin)

“Hey, how’d you like your company back as an early Christmas gift?”

Oliver grinned, amusement lacing his words, “I think you’re doing a better job of running it than I would.”

“It’s flirting with bankruptcy,” Felicity replied flatly.

“Exactly,” Oliver said. He leaned towards her, his eyes dropping to her lips. “It’s just flirting.”

Exasperation colored her face. “Oliver…”

His mouth covered hers before she could continue, muffling the rest of her words. Felicity let out a tiny mewl, and he took advantage, running his tongue along the opening she gave him. Like it was the most natural thing in the world she opened for him, leaning into him, and the tension she always carried when she talked about her new position slowly evaporated.

Oliver smiled, scooting closer, cupping her cheek.

“You won’t distract me,” she whispered, her words muted by his kisses. “I’m still thinking that is a fine Christmas present, especially considering I don’t even…”

He chuckled, cutting her off again, angling her head back as he moved closer until he was hovering over her. She sighed, a blissful little sound that shot right through him, and she cupped his face, deepening the kiss. It was his turn to moan and Oliver pressed the length of his body against hers, the sheet the only thing separating them, doing absolutely nothing to hide his desire for her.

It never ceased to amaze him how much he always wanted her, how he responded to her, how she reacted to him… a brush of her lips, a little smile, the way she bit her lip, how her eyes lit up when she looked at him, shining her light on him, bathing him in her love…

He loved her so much, his beautiful, brilliant Felicity.

“Nope, not distracting me,” she mumbled distractedly, shaking her head. He grinned, nipping at her lips. “No… pe…”

“I think I’m doing a pretty good job,” Oliver whispered before he slid his tongue in her mouth, tangling with hers, and he felt the last of her resistance slide right out of her. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders, her other hand gripping the back of his neck as she arched into him, lifting her leg to wrap it over his hip through the sheet, pressing herself against him in blatant invitation.

His body had already been primed - he was _always_ ready for her - but now he hardened even more, his arousal for her growing at an alarming rate as her nails scraped at his back, the tiny sounds she gave him sending him soaring as she responded, her kisses becoming more demanding, more needy. The same want flowed between them until the only thing that mattered was touching her more, feeling her around him, burying himself as deep as he could inside her until the only thing left was _her_ …

Oliver slid his hand down and pushed the sheet out of the way, inhaling sharply when her warm skin moved against his.

Felicity wrapped herself around him, pulling him closer, his hardness slipping over her stomach before she angled her hips so he was…

Oliver gasped, his fingers digging into her hips as he slid through her arousal. She was so wet, her thighs still sticky from their lovemaking a mere twenty minutes ago… god, he was sensitive, her heat scorching through him, but he still felt like he hadn’t had her in days, in weeks…

The quiet desperation that still hummed between them had yet to go away; she called it the honeymoon phase, but it was more than that… it was the realization that she was here, with him, and now that he had her he wasn’t letting her go, _he wouldn’t_ …

“Oliver,” she whispered, rotating her hips, making him hiss against her. He kissed her harder. “I have to… go…”

“Mmhmm,” he said, barely getting it out before he wrapped his arm around her waist and fell back, pulling her so she was settled on top of him. Felicity responded instinctively, gripping his shoulders, her legs coming up to straddle him, her warmth sliding along his length. She moved her hips again, making them both choke out a moan, her naked breasts pressed against his chest, her nipples pebbling…

“I…” she started, kissing her way down his jaw, reaching his earlobe where she tugged it between her teeth. Oliver jerked, his hips thrusting up against her, and she whimpered. “Oliver, I have to… go, I need to… You’re not… going to distract me from the…”

“Felicity…” Oliver pushed his fingers across her scalp, making her hum. He gripped her hair in loose fists and angled her head again, pulling her face back to his where he kissed her breathless. “We have time.”

“Not enough for me to fix my sex hair,” she sighed, sounding very much like she didn’t really care and he grinned.

“You’ll have time,” he said and then he kissed her again, silencing any more protests, leaning up to get closer to her. She met him halfway, nodding her acquiescence, gasping his name…

Felicity slipped her hand down between them and found his aching hardness. She gripped him, her fingers wrapping around him, and he tightened his hold on her, whining her name in a breathy gasp as she loomed over him, angling her hips so she could position him at her entrance.

The head of his erection slid through her juices, coating him readily as she slid him over her clit…

Felicity broke away with a harsh pant, pressing her forehead to his, her mouth hovering against his as she teased both of them.

They breathed each other’s air, holding onto each other as if they were anchors, the only thing keeping them on earth, from flying apart…

Felicity found her entrance again and thrust down, taking him deep inside her.

They cried out, both still so tender, but they instantly started moving, her hips moving up as he slid out of her, thrusting together at the same time, in perfect synchronicity. They moved together as if they’d been doing all their life, knowing exactly how to touch the other, where to move, to rotate, to make the other gasp until they were seeing stars. She squeezed her inner muscles around him, clamping her silky, wet walls down until he was crying out her name and his hands fly down to her hips, angling her with each thrust so her clit grazed his pubic bone, sending her desire higher with a swiftness that left her breathlessly whimpering for him.

Their foreheads became slick with sweat, their breaths combining, their lips brushing against each other in wet, messy kisses.

Her sensitive nipples scraped along his chest, over his scars, against his nipples, making her shudder on top of him.

His pleasure built quickly, the knowledge that she had to go, that she had to be somewhere, that he had to make her come _now_ roared through him.

“Felicity,” he whispered, fighting to keep himself above the sensations swamping him. “Felicity, are you…?”

She whimpered mindlessly, her hips moving faster, her body tensing…

“Oliver,” she whined, and he knew exactly what she was asking.

He slipped his hand between them, his thumb finding her wet clit. She cried out sharply, her back arching, her head flying back as her hips worked faster, bouncing on top of him. He rubbed her sensitive flesh, sending little shocks shooting through her body until her nails were digging into him, her trembling translating to him as she neared her release.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” Felicity cried. She buried her face in his neck, her hair falling across his face, her scent combined with his filling him and he didn’t relent, rubbing her faster, her clit growing harder… she sobbed her pleasure into him, gripping him so hard it burned, her hips moving in short, violent thrusts without an ounce of rhythm until…

Felicity came with a breathless shout as her orgasm sliced through her, and Oliver’s hands instantly grabbed her hips, slamming her down hard, drawing a tremulous cry from deep within her chest as he moved her faster and faster, her release making her so tight and wet and… _perfect_ …

Oliver came with a startled gasp, his back arching off the bed. He emptied himself into her, her body welcoming every bit of it as they clung to each other, moving senselessly until they had nothing left to give, until she collapsed onto him.

With every breath he let out, her hair fluttered over his face, tickling him. His arm felt like it was made of lead as he lifted it just enough to brush it off his mouth before he buried his hand into her hair, cupping the back of her head, cradling her close. She moaned something unintelligible, her face smooshed between his neck and shoulder.

Oliver had just enough energy to turn and see she still had half an hour before her conference.

“See?” he mumbled, nuzzling his face down so he could press a kiss to her temple. “Just enough time.”

“Mmph,” she managed, and he smiled, running his fingers through her hair. She let out a muffled sigh, relaxing against him completely.

Her hair wasn’t _that_ bad.

“And no sex hair,” he said softly, tugging a few tangles out as gently as he could. She let out a little snort. “We did good.”

“That’s good… very good… now if I could just _move_ , everything would be perfect.”

Oliver grinned, wrapping his arms around as he peppered a series of butterfly kisses in her hair, making her giggle.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/130566128964/um-yeah-im-gonna-need-follow-up-smut-to-the-new)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	23. Don't Let Go (Season 4 spec)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A (very) alternate canon spec fic for Season 4 based on the promos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post this before the premiere since it’s based on what we’ll get tonight… and because my mean subconscious wanted to counteract the Olicity fluff we’ve been getting so far. I wouldn’t call this a spec fic so much as a ‘Bre was cracking out when she wrote this’ fic. It’s like a wish fic. The concepts are quite out there. 
> 
> I drafted this after we got the initial trailer, before we saw Darhk’s abilities, etc. It was also based on all the ‘it’s not what you think’ hints Amell kept dropping when he caught wind of the S4 specs. I was talking about Damien Darhk stuff a few weeks ago with @supersillyanddorky06 when I vomited this idea at her, so I’m mostly posting this now because she was like, “Oh, neat!”

The blur of lights was the only thing cutting through the dark night as he waited.

He kept his eyes on them, his ear full of chatter from the rest of the team down on the ground where they held the line, shouting locations and reporting back on what they encountered.

Oliver waited, his body tense, his muscles ready…

And then he was flying through the air, his grip on the thin rope tight and secure, his eyes on the front of the train where he wanted to land; his hand slid just a little, the leather of his gloves still new, still unworn, but it held as he aimed for the Bullet train whipping its way out of the city.

He had only one chance, one small window…

Oliver landed with a heavy thud on the speeding train, wind beating against him with a bruising force that stole the air from his lungs. He gritted his teeth against it, angling his head away, crawling across the chilly metal to the edge. He gripped the lip of the car and pulled himself over just enough to see inside… six people inside. He reached down, running his fingers over the edge of the window until he felt a tiny give. The train was moving too fast to throw himself over with enough force to break the Plexiglas - he’d get thrown around like a damn ragdoll. He needed to break it first.

The bodies inside barely moved, vigilant and steady.

 _Ghosts_.

None of them were Darhk.

Oliver had already taken a nasty beating that night - Laurel hadn’t been lying when she’d described the state of the city; the soldiers were well-trained - _very_ well-trained - and so efficiently on-point it was frightening. It went well beyond what the League was capable of, well beyond the mentality of brute strength the Mirakuru soldiers had had… they were well beyond anything Oliver had ever seen.

The soldiers were near-robotic with their perfection, worker bees, programmed with one task and one task only: do as their leader instructed.

It gave the H.I.V.E. acronym a whole new meaning.

Oliver clung to the car, waiting, watching their patterns…

 _There_.  


He flicked his wrist, a tiny blade sliding out from his wrist and he stabbed it in to the window edge, right where it was weakest, and yanked. The glass gave way and without wasting a second, Oliver pulled himself in. There were no shouts of surprise or anger at the sudden intrusion, or any response to his sharp grunt when the wind whipped his body around, ramming his hip into the window edge with so much force it made his teeth hurt.

The Ghosts just _swarmed_ as Oliver landed in a roll, instinct the only thing saving him from a knife sliding right through his eye.

The fight was short but brutal.

Before the last body hit the ground, Oliver was already moving towards the next door. It was locked and he rammed his bow on the lock, splitting the metal in half. The door slid open with an abrupt hiss and Oliver slid in, already scanning the open space.

The car was empty.

The next one was too.

Oliver made his way through the train, running into a few more H.I.V.E. members, taking them out but not without taking a few more hits, a few more cuts… Adrenaline kept the pain away, kept him focused as he slid through each car.

The silence throughout the train was _unnerving_ ; nobody spoke, they barely breathed - there was an unnatural stillness in the way they moved, the way they fought - even when their lifeless bodies hit the ground, there was nothing past a silent exhale, like there really was nothing human left in Darhk’s soldiers but his will.

It made it easier to kill them.

Oliver finally reached the cargo.

Small metal boxes filled the first car, all lined up neatly on multiple pallets. They were wrapped in thin burlap, strapped to the walls, moving with the rocking train; the edges and corners danced in an invisible breeze from the wind seeping through tiny cracks in the car wall seams.

Every single box had “Kord Industries” stamped across the front.

That had to be what they were after… but why?

Oliver slid through the car, body tense, senses alert… and paused when he felt an unusual burst of warmth coming from the boxes. He frowned - they were all the exact same, simple and metallic, with latches at the top, and he knew without having to look inside that there was black foam lining them, that these boxes were likely holding something precious.

Oliver pressed the back of his hand to one and inhaled sharply at the intense heat coming off it. It seeped into his glove quickly, searing into his skin, and he yanked his hand back with a hiss.

“What the hell?” he whispered, rubbing his fingers together, the heat abating.

He wanted to open one, he wanted to see what exactly the hell was in the boxes… but that was for later.

Right now, he needed to find Darhk, needed to stop him and the train, and get the boxes back to the lair, back to Felicity.

Just as it had all night, the thought of Felicity made his chest ache.

It’d been less then twenty-four hours since they’d been in their house, content and peaceful, where nothing could touch them in the bubble they’d started constructing for themselves the second they’d left the city, a bubble where the Arrow no longer existed, where they no longer had to wonder what life or death situation waited for them that night, where they didn’t have to _plan_ for anything, or worry about anything, or fear anything…

It had been perfect… until his sister and Laurel had appeared out of the blue, bringing the past he’d spent so many months putting behind him, asking him to come back.

But not as Oliver Queen.

_“We need the Arrow.”_

He’d said no at first - the Arrow was dead, gone; the city believed he was dead, and he was at peace with keeping it that way. He was finally at a point in his life where it felt okay - it felt _right_ \- to be selfish, and coming back to the madness and mayhem was like taking a step backwards.

He didn’t want to, but he also couldn’t _not_ come back, not when people were dying, not when his family was getting hurt, not when things seemed to be coming apart at the seams - if he could help, if he could bring some of the balance back, well… then he would.

It’d fallen to a compromise \- he’d come back, help with the new darkness settling in Star City, but it didn’t mean the Arrow was back permanently - he wasn’t ready to agree to that.

He and Felicity hadn’t taken much, just locking the house, telling the neighbors they were gonna be out of town for a few weeks…

But that they’d be back.

God, he wished he could go back. He wished he could rewind time right now, wished Felicity hadn’t answered the door, wished they hadn’t known where to find them…

He wished he’d taken her somewhere last night, he wished he’d planned to propose to her anywhere else but where they could be found.

The ring burned a hole in his chest where he kept it secured in his jacket. He hadn’t been able to put it down, not since he’d seen the somber faces waiting for him when he’d left the kitchen.

Oliver clenched his jaw and shook the thoughts off, sliding through the dark cargo space to the door on the opposite side. Later, that was for later. This wasn’t permanent, this wasn’t going to be their life…he was going to ask her to marry him, he was going to slide that ring on her finger, he was going to worship every inch of her when he heard the breathy yes he’d spent hours imagining in detail.

He clenched his bow a little tighter, his new suit - the suit Felicity had designed for him - settling over him so naturally it felt like a second skin. When he’d tried it on the first time, it hadn’t felt _wrong_ , like he thought it would, it hadn’t felt like he was stepping backwards…

It’d felt like he was stepping forward, into a new future, a new direction…

Was it possible, to live in the bliss he’d found with Felicity while carving out a new way of helping people?

The thought alone was making his chest feel too tight.

_Later._

The creaks and groans from the cargo followed him as he made his way to the door leading to the next car. Oliver waited a second, his ears straining to hear anything, but all he heard was the rush of wind, the chink of metal, the push of the wheels on the tracks, the cargo shifting slightly…

He’d been through twelve cars already; he had three more to go.

The next car was filled with boxes as well, all labeled with Kord Industries. The same strange warmth emanated from every single one as he made his way through the tight space.

Two more cars…

Oliver broke the lock on the next door, the door sliding open…

And he froze.

He’d found him.

Damien Darhk looked up from where he had one of the boxes open. There wasn’t any shock or anger or fear on the man’s face - rather, it was just… _intrigue_.

Darhk’s eyebrows slid up in silent curiosity, an amused smile tugging at his lips as slowly he shut the box.

Oliver barely got a glance at what was in it - there was a light green glow and something much darker - before Darhk latched it shut. He pushed the box back into its spot in the cargo, slipping something small into his pocket.

And then he noticed the pack sitting on the cargo… and the tiny red light blinking on it.

It was a bomb pack… Oliver’s eyes flew around - they were everywhere, littered through the cargo, the same monotonous flashing light matching the smaller one coming off the remote that appeared in Darhk’s other hand.

He wasn’t _taking_ the cargo - he was blowing it up.

The train suddenly picked up speed, taking a corner too fast, causing everything to shift to the left drastically. Oliver’s feet slid, his arm shooting out to steady himself, but Darhk barely moved, his body matching the movement of the train like he was part of it.

He wasn’t speaking, just _smiling_ … it was as unsettling as his soldiers.

“Damien Darhk,” Oliver started, his voice augmented by the modulator. He took a step forward. “You…”

The other man laughed.

The sound echoed in the tiny space, so jovial and unassuming it had a boulder settling in Oliver’s chest. His instincts roared to life, his heart rate picking up…

The danger he felt from this man was followed quickly by a wicked wave of déjà vu.

Déjà vu?

From what?

“This… is a great surprise,” Darhk said, smiling. The sight of the man’s teeth had the same uncomforting effect as his silent soldiers. Oliver forced himself to not move - to not fidget, to not shift, _nothing_ \- as Darhk studied him. “I saw your video to the people of Star City earlier tonight. Your ‘rah-rah, come together, come together’ speech. I have to admit I was _moved_ , I truly was… it had a gravitas that almost gave me chills.” Darhk cocked his head, his eerie smile never going away. “You do have me at a slight disadvantage here though… you know me, but I don’t know you.”

He waited, but Oliver stayed where he was, not responding. Something kept him still, kept him from acting, from speaking… he wanted to hear what he had to say.

Darhk nodded. “I like it. It opens a door for a fun debate about the power of names… of what they represent, what they _symbolize_ …

“Like… the Arrow, for example…”

Oliver stared at him.

Darhk chuckled, waving his hand up and down as if the gravitas Oliver had commanded earlier suddenly evaporated, revealing him as nothing more than a cheap caricature. Oliver’s muscles instantly coiled without thought at the unspoken challenge, ready to strike, rising to face it before he realized what he was doing.

“You can’t be _the_ Arrow, he died…” Darhk said, the blatantly confrontational invitation making Oliver’s hackles rise. “So who are you?”

“You’re about to find out,” Oliver bit out, and in the next second he had his bow up, an arrow in hand and he was firing.

Darhk was faster than anything Oliver had ever seen before.

Oliver’s aim was true, aimed straight for Darhk’s face, but his hand snatched the arrow out of the air before it even got _close_. Oliver fired again, and again, moving closer with each arrow that left his bow, but Darhk deflected them all perfectly, the grin never leaving his face as if this was just a merry game, not life or death, not Oliver aiming with the intent to kill…

“Ah, the Arrow _isn’t_ dead then!” Darhk said, laughing as he caught the next arrow. The words sent a chill down Oliver’s spine, but he was already moving for the next one, fully expecting Darhk to drop the arrow as he had the others, but he didn’t.

Instead Darhk flipped it and flicked his wrist, sending it flying back at Oliver with such speed and precision he didn’t have time to react.

He moved before it could slice through his eye socket, and it skated across his cheek, cutting through his skin like tissue paper. Oliver hissed, dropping the arrow he’d had at the ready, landing with an ugly clang, his hand flying to the cut, blood already coating his hand, sliding down his arm as he stumbled back, holding the flap of skin.

He was fast, too fast. This wasn’t just skill, this was something else…

“So where have you been these last few months?” Darhk asked, his tone conversational as he set the remote detonator down, dusting off his hands causally. “The Arrow faked his death… for what, a vacation, a break? A chance to be free? It’s kind of poetic, in a tragically maudlin sort of way.”

He smirked, shaking his head before a light tapping on the door behind him caught his attention. He glanced over his shoulder, not the least bit concerned with showing Oliver his back, before glancing back at him with a smile.

“Ah, unfortunately I have to go. I’d hoped we’d have more time together, when we did meet, but I have an appointment, one I can’t miss.”

Darhk pointed at the door behind Oliver as he said, “You’ll be letting yourself off, yes?” just the door behind him slid open…

When Oliver caught a flash of pink and blonde, his heart stopped.

“I can’t imagine you’ll want to come through here, there’s a great deal more resistance this way…”

Oliver didn’t hear a word.

He no longer saw Darhk, or the train, or the H.I.V.E. soldiers, or… anything.

His stomach dropped as a surge of adrenaline stabbed him in the gut, sending a spike of nausea crashing through him so violently he choked; bile crawled up his gullet, his mouth going dry, everything _stopping._

_No…_

_Felicity._

They had Felicity.

“Felicity,” he breathed, her name laced with so much horror and fear he could _taste_ it as he instinctively went for her, almost blindly, seeing nothing but _her_ …

_Felicity…_

Darhk flicked his hand up nonchalantly and one of his soldiers was suddenly there, an ugly knife in hand, pressing the very sharp point at the base of her exposed neck.

He almost didn’t stop, he almost kept moving, ready to plow Darhk out of the way, to grab her, to _run…_ but the soldier pressed the knife down, and a tiny bead of blood came up, streaming down the side of her neck.

Oliver froze, not seeing the way Darhk narrowed his eyes, the way he cocked his head… not seeing that he was giving the man _everything_ , so much more than he ever should… but he couldn’t stop to care, he _couldn’t_.

Felicity’s only response to the sharp knife was a slight twitch, but that was it.

She was out cold.

One of his soldier’s held her limp body, her head hanging awkwardly where she laid - she was wearing her pink dress, the one with the crisscross design that highlighted her shoulders, the shoulders he’d kissed when she’d come downstairs wearing it just that morning… _Felicity giggled, pushing him away with a, “None of that or we’ll never leave…”_ It was torn, like she’d struggled when they’d grabbed her. She was missing a shoe, the heel on her other one cracked and broken. The curls she’d spent two hours on that morning hung loose and flat, her features pallid and unresponsive, making her lipstick-stained lips look like a garish cut across her face.

 _Felicity_.

“The distraction makes sense now,” Darhk said, pointing at him. “You know her…”

Why did they have her? What distraction? What did they want with her? When did they get her, how long had they had her, what were they going to do…

Was she okay, was she hurt…

_Did they hurt her?_

The thoughts raced through his head in a tumultuous wave as blood slid down his face in a slow rivulet. His hands started to shake as nervous tremors wracked his body, his bow groaning from the pressure of his fist…

But he couldn’t move.

 _Fear_.

When was the last time _fear_ had frozen him… when was the last time he’d let his freeze him…

But this was different.

This was _Felicity_.

And this time he knew exactly what would follow if anything happened to her.

Oliver willed himself to move, willed himself to do _something, anything_ … but he was stuck, concrete slowly replacing all the blood in his veins, dragging him down, filling his lungs…

He knew if he moved, they’d slice her throat.

“Oh… god, Felicity,” he whispered under his breath, barely audible, but Darhk caught it with an amused smile.

“Don’t worry, she’s fine. Just a mild sedative…" He pointed at Oliver again. “But this is interesting…”

Oliver barely comprehended the words. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking if they’d never come back, if they’d stayed where they were, if they’d stayed away, this wouldn’t be happening. They’d be getting ready for bed - he’d be teasing her about wearing pants because they always ended up on the floor… she’d be brushing her teeth, talking to him through a mouthful of toothpaste as he flossed… she’d chastise him for tossing it into the trash so it landed hanging over the rim and he’d tell her to stop leaving the cap off the toothpaste…

They’d be _home_ … and _safe_ …

_Not here._

“She’s been working with you,” Darhk said, his voice lifting with the revelation. Oliver jerked like the words were made of electricity, his eyes flying back to his. “She’s been working with the Arrow… how fascinating! You’re the reason she never advanced to the science department at Queen Consolidated, or moved on to Palmer Tech… and I mean of her own volition, of course, not as a consequence of anything else… Amazing. I could never understand what had changed… but the plans never came about because she was _distracted_. By you.”

_Queen Consolidated._

_Palmer Tech._

_Plans._

_Distracted…_

_By you._

“What?” Oliver asked, his voice so low and harsh the modulator barely caught it.

Darhk laughed. “This is fantastic. It’s two birds with one stone.” He held his hands up. “I couldn’t have planned this any better. I’m almost sad I won’t remember this.” He sighed and then glanced down at his watch. “But I do have to go. Time and tide wait for no man, and I’ve been waiting for this moment for a very long time. It’s one of those moments that happens once in a lifetime, you understand… but hey, my consolation prize to you for getting on here in the first place and having to see your pretty friend like this is that I’ll let you leave with your life. That’s fair, right?”

Oliver fought to breathe.

Darhk shot him a gracious smile as he said, “But you better be quick about it, this train won’t be here much longer.”

And then he turned, not waiting for an answer.

Oliver almost didn’t move… he almost just watched them walk away, watched them _take her away from him_ , when she started to wake up, letting out a little moan.

The sound sliced him open from the inside out, erupting from his core in a violent push of rage that took over.

Darhk had been fast, so fast it almost wasn’t human… but in that moment, Oliver was faster.

It happened in the space of a few seconds.

Oliver rammed his bow in the back of Darhk’s head, sending him tumbling into one the pallets with a loud clang. The soldier holding the knife hesitated and that split second was all Oliver needed to be on him. He snatched the knife out of his hand and slid the blade straight through his throat, cutting through his trachea like it was nothing. Blood spurted across the room, the rest of the soldiers already moving, already _swarming_ as the one holding Felicity suddenly dropped her.

“No!” Oliver shouted, already moving to catch her. She landed in his arms, the momentum from her fall taking him with her to the ground. He twisted, taking the brunt of the impact on his arms, hauling her up against his chest.

Oliver instantly curled himself around her, huddling her close, protecting her…

The soldiers teemed around them, hands grabbing, weapons unsheathing, the sound of heavy footsteps coming down on them echoing in the train car… and then a sharp, “Stop!” sounded, bouncing off the walls with the startling effect of a shotgun blast.

Everyone froze.

Little alarmed noises fell from Felicity’s throat, her arms weakly coming up to wrap around him as she blinked, wincing in pain.

"Felicity,” Oliver breathed, giving himself a quick second, shoving his face into her hair, breathing in deeply - _Felicity_ \- as the soldiers stepped back, clearing a path for…

“I didn’t realize the distraction went so deep,” Darhk said, stepping around him where he was huddled over Felicity. “You’re in love with her.”

“Let her go,” Oliver said quietly. “You can have me, do whatever you want with me, but let her go.”

Darhk smiled. “Very chivalrous, but no. I don’t care about _you_. I care about _her_.” He pointed at Felicity, who was still fighting for consciousness. “Now kindly set her down and leave… or I will be forced to kill you. And I don’t want to kill you. Contrary to my actions this past week, I’m not a fan of needless killing.”

Oliver looked up at him, his answer written all of his face as he narrowed his eyes, squaring his jaw.

Darhk sighed, shaking his head as Felicity shifted against him with a soft, “Oliver?”

His attention snapped back down to her, his hands coming around her even more protectively, whispering a quiet, “Shh,” but she just shuddered - like she was _cold_ , like she was in _pain_ \- pressing closer to him.

“What’s happening?” she asked, her words slurring, and he wondered what the hell they’d given her, if they’d hit her - did they not need her conscious? Why else take her, what the hell did Darhk want with her?

“Alright then,” Darhk said with resignation and he lifted his hand, flicking it again.

“No,” Oliver growled just as four of his soldiers suddenly flanked him, ripping him away from her.

Felicity’s eyes flew open in surprise as Oliver dug his fingers into her, bucking against them, but they were too strong, there were too many, and they lifted him away from her like he weighed nothing.

“No,” Felicity murmured, her lids heavy, her face slack as she reached for him… it looked like she was moving through molasses. “No…”

“Felicity!” he shouted, struggling to get away from the soldiers, but they held fast.

Darhk knelt down, gripping Felicity’s shoulders. Oliver growled, snapping, “Get away from her!” as fought against his captors. She shrugged away from him, trying to get away from the unfamiliar hands but he was insistent, turning her around until she was facing him.

“Hello, Ms. Smoak,” he said. “I’m Damien Darhk. I’m here to fix what went wrong.”

“What?” she asked, sounding almost drunk. She lifted a hand, moving to push his off her but she missed. “What… went wrong… I like things here. Now.”

“But they’re not right, Ms. Smoak. _You’re_ not right,” Darhk continued, like the words he was saying made actual sense.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny black crystal.

“No!” Oliver shook his head rapidly, straining against his captors, feeling his muscles tearing with the effort, something cracking somewhere, something inside him shifting that shouldn’t shift… but he didn’t care.

“Do you understand?” Darhk continued, as if it was just them in a quiet room.

Felicity shook her head, and Darhk’s smile was filled with sympathy.

“It’s okay. You will, I promise.” He sighed, looking down at the crystal. “I had plans to make this much easier on you, but… beggars can’t be choosers. Please open, Ms. Smoak.”

“Wha…”

The second Felicity opened her mouth, Darhk shoved the crystal between her lips. Felicity jerked back like he’d burned her, moving to spit it out but he covered her face with his hand, clamping her mouth shut.

“No!” Oliver shouted as Darhk said in an even voice, “Swallow it, please.” Oliver shouted again, pulling as hard as he could, straining towards her as Darhk wrapped his hand around her neck, his thumb coaxing her throat. “Swallow.”

Felicity struggled as much as she could, clawing at his hands, but her strength was non-existent.

She swallowed.

“There we go,” Darhk said, instantly releasing her. He stood, letting Felicity collapse to the ground, her hand flying to her throat as she coughed, hacking, trying to get it back out… but the crystal was gone. Darhk stared down at her as he pulled the handkerchief out of his pocket, wiping his hands. “I need Project 298-KI, Ms. Smoak, and I’m not talking about the baby version your ex-boyfriend unleashed on this city. I need what you were supposed to create, the next step you never took… I need you back on the path you veered off of.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Oliver snarled, yanking on his arms. “Let me go, damn it! What’d you give her?”

“A very special stone,” Darhk replied, refolding the handkerchief, putting it back in place. His smile was genial when he looked at Oliver again. “A mythical stone, one that is not of this earth; very rare, very powerful… One that has amazing capabilities when combined with the right chemicals…”

“Chemicals?” Oliver demanded. “What chemicals?”

“There was more than a sedative in that shot we gave her. A very special brew, meant specifically…” He waved at Felicity. “For her. None of it would have been possible without the assistance of a few key players, namely your Ray Palmer, Luther and Kord - isn’t it amazing how when one door closes, another opens?” Looking almost blissful, Darhk shrugged before looking at the time. He pinched his lips and nodded to his soldiers. “It’s time.”

One of the soldiers slammed their fist into the back of Oliver’s head, _hard_.

He vaguely heard Felicity’s, “Oliver!” as a burst of pain exploded at the base of his neck. Oliver gasped, blackness taking over his vision, pinpricks of light bursting against his lids as he slid to the floor, head lolling before collapsing on the ground. His vision swam, his throat closing; pain radiated down his spinal column, making his limbs seize… the floor shook with the heavy boots of the soldiers filtering towards the back of the train, the distinct click of a button and a timer starting somewhere.

A shadow floated above his head, a hand falling on his shoulder.

“Hopefully she didn’t change too much for your life, my friend,” Darhk said. “I’d love to meet you again.”

_What?_

And then he was gone.

Oliver fought to breathe as the pain slowly subsided, the monotonous beeping echoing in his head, the quiet breaths from Felicity next to him, the rumble of the tracks through the floor of the car…

He pushed up, wincing when a sharp pain danced down his back.

“Felicity?” he breathed through gritted teeth, twisting towards her. They were alone, the cargo swaying around them, the beeping never ceasing. They had to get off the train - _now_. She was sprawled out on her back, her hand on her stomach, the fingers she had spread out towards him twitching spastically. “Felicity?”

“Oliver, what…” Her voice was shaking, a thin tremble that he felt in his bones. Felicity lifted her hand up - it was _shaking_ ; not because she was scared, not because she was coming down from whatever they’d given her, but _shaking_ …

 _Blurring_.

 _Vibrating_.

Oliver froze, staring at it as the blur slowly moved its way down her arm…

“Felicity…” he whispered, horror creeping into his voice, no longer feeling the hit on his head or the rocking train or hearing the beeping…

“Oliver, I can’t feel my arm,” she whispered just as the train took another corner wildly, going way too fast.

A vicious pained scream ripped from her throat with the sudden trajectory change, but she didn’t move an inch, like she was glued in place as Oliver went flying. He crashed into the Kord boxes and the pain in his back reared its ugly head, sending black spots dancing across his eyes again. The sound of her voice, screaming his name, over and over, had him moving, pushing through the pain, making his vision blur as he shoved himself towards her again.

Her entire arm was vibrating now, her chest starting to blur.

“Oliver, I can’t…” she gasped

“Felicity!”

The train caught another turn, and this time the straps next to him snapped, sending the heavy Kord boxes tumbling over him. Oliver shouted, scrambling over the floor to get closer to her but the boxes caught his leg, pinning him in place, _crushing_ him - Oliver yelled, feeling the bones turning to mulch under the impossibly heavy boxes, the intense heat he’d felt earlier starting to sink through his leathers and into his skin…

But he didn’t care.

Oliver twisted as much as he could, clenching his jaw against the pain - she was right there, so close…

The entire left side of her body was vibrating now, blurring…

 _Humming_.

She was looking at him.

“Oliver,” she whispered, shock coloring her face. “What’s happening?”

“Felicity, hold on, please hold on, don’t let go, don’t let go, please,” Oliver babbled, his words getting lost in the whirring noise of whatever the hell… he didn’t even know, he didn’t know what he was seeing, he didn’t know what was happening…

For the first time in such a long time, Oliver had no idea what to do; he had no idea what he was up against, what was happening to her, and the helpless feeling crushed him more than the boxes searing into his skin.

Felicity reached her hand towards him, and Oliver reached for her… their fingers slid against each other but he didn’t feel anything…

Oliver yanked his glove off and reached for her again, clasping onto her fingers…

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice vibrating just as much as her body and Oliver felt something inside him break.

This was it.

He knew with a certainty that cemented every inch of him that this was it.

He was never going to see her again.

He was losing her…

“No,” Oliver whispered, tears flooding his eyes, searing their way down his cheeks as they fell. He held onto her fingers harder, trying to pull her closer but she wasn’t budging. “Felicity, please, don’t go… Please…”

“Oliver…”

Her fingers grew lax in his.

“No! Don’t let go, Felicity, don’t let go… I love you… I love you…”

“Oliver…”

*

_“Oliver…”_

Oliver woke with a start, a sharp cry on his lips as he jerked up on his cot, his hand reaching for something… but there was nothing there.

His hand hovered in the air, his fingers tingling with awareness, feeling _something_ …

But he was alone.

Always alone.

Oliver’s eyes flew around the sparse room - everything was in its place, everything was where he’d left it…

And yet…

Something was missing.

Oliver scrubbed his face and tossed the thin blanket off, sending it flying to the floor. He rolled off the cot, barely feeling the cold concrete as he made his way to the water pitcher sitting where he kept his computers. A low dull green filled the space, where they were running searches on the new soldiers that had touched down in Starling a few weeks ago, spurning his early return.

The water was old, a thin film on the top tasting like rusted copper, but he still drank it.

Oliver rubbed his hand over his chest, wincing - something deep inside him _ached_ \- before letting his hand drop down over his stomach, his ribs, his harshly cut muscles, his hip bones…

He knew he needed to eat, that he should go out, get sustenance… but he wasn’t hungry.

He was never hungry.

With a resigned sigh, Oliver sat down at his desk and hit a button.

One of his screens instantly filled with the most recent news in Starling City… and at the front…

_“Felicity Smoak, newly appointed CEO and majority shareholder of Palmer Tech.”_

Oliver felt a twinge deep in the pit of his stomach, and he skimmed the article… Ray Palmer had disappeared, leaving his VP in charge… papers she’d signed… something about a new project she was working on, something the shareholders were excited about… the reason why Palmer had brought her on in the first place…

And there was a picture.

Oliver stared at it.

The ache inside him grew sharper as he stared at the blonde woman, wearing the same glasses she’d had on the one and only time he’d met her, when she’d been working for Queen Consolidated. Her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, and she was wearing a smart-looking blouse, a bright smile on her pink-painted lips…

Before he knew what he was doing, Oliver reached out and ran his finger across the screen, over her face…

The same tingling awareness he’d felt when he’d woken suddenly flooded his fingers and he gasped, feeling the wildest urge to find her, to touch her, to feel her… to cup her face, to hear her voice, to _see_ her…

Oliver jerked his hand back like the screen was on fire, his mind reeling - _what the hell?_ \- and in the same breath he had the browser closed, erasing her from his screen. He shoved himself out of the seat, scrubbing his face with shaky hands - _what the hell?_

He turned in a random circle, his heart physically lurching as he _felt_ …

Oliver gasped…

_Nothing._

He felt nothing.

The feeling was gone just as suddenly as it’d been there, leaving him with a cold empty space deep inside him, the same empty space he’d felt for years now…

He took a deep breath, the air expanding his lungs, scraping over his dry throat, making him cough… before he grabbed the bar for the salmon ladder, heading towards the imposing piece of metal, his muscles already protesting, knowing he was going to work himself until he collapsed, until he had nothing left, until he had no choice but to fall to the ground with exhaustion…

It was the only way he could sleep anymore.

Oliver pushed himself until the empty feeling was buried, until he didn’t see her face anymore, until there was nothing left but…

The Arrow.

*

“What is on that screen that has you so fascinated, Melissa?” Felicity asked as she swooped into her office, balancing the two coffees. She set the double-shot mocha on her assistant’s desk before picking up the mail balanced on the edge, waiting for her. She thumbed through it as Melissa gave her a dreamy sigh.

“Oliver Queen, that’s who,” Melissa said, and Felicity’s breath caught.

It always did that whenever she heard his name… remnants of a stupid crush and a stupid bag of hope that one visit to see her would somehow turn into more. It never did, and instead of the little crush floundering as it should have, it’d only become more potent.

So potent that she’d actually _dreamt_ about him last night.

They’d been in a house, a beautiful house somewhere that was definitely _not_ Star City, a place that felt suspiciously like Connecticut - and could she just mention how freakishly specific this dream was? She’d been sitting on the counter in the kitchen, reading the directions from a recipe book, trying to cook some stupid eggs.

That was part was definitely accurate, she was a horrible cook…

And then Oliver had walked into the kitchen, all sweaty in a green sweatshirt, a beatific grin on his face… a grin directed right at her.

She’d been happy… really, really happy.

They’d kissed…

Melissa sighing brought Felicity back to the moment, and she shook her head.

She had _issues_.

At least she was aware of them.

“What about the esteemed Mr. Queen?” Felicity asked, her voice catching only a little bit, holding the mail a little tighter.

“He’s back in town,” Melissa said.

“Yeah, I think I saw something about that last week. Isn’t it amazing how former billionaires are still just as interesting when they’re only millionaires?”

Melissa chuckled, her eyes never leaving the screen. Felicity leaned over and her breath caught again when she saw the paparazzi picture of him entering a coffee shop near the Glades.

_“My coffee shop is in a bad neighborhood.”_

His hair was longer, and he looked thinner, more haggard… but still just as gorgeous as ever. His beard was longer and his eyes… they were…

 _Haunted_.

Felicity knew without a doubt that she wouldn’t be getting any smiles out of this man.

The thought tugged at her heart, little claws tugging until she bled, and she felt a deep sadness.

He deserved to smile. He deserved to have things in his life to smile about… but he didn’t.

He was alone.

Felicity stared at him, jolting when she felt the telltale burn of tears in her eyes.

She wanted to make him smile again.

Felicity shook her head, rolling her eyes at herself. What was the matter with her? That dream was _messing with her._ Like there was any way ever she’d run into Oliver Queen again - the chances had nosedived when he’d become CEO, almost tanking the company, and they’d gone down even more when he’d lost everything.

“Did you ever meet him when this place was QC?” Melissa asked.

“Uh… yeah,” Felicity said, suddenly finding one of the envelopes extremely fascinating. “Once. I fixed a laptop for him.”

“Ooh, tell me everything.”

Felicity chuckled. “That is everything. I never saw him again.”

She paused as her own words echoed in her ear. She _had_ never seen him again, and yet… part of her felt like she had.

Okay, she needed about seven more cups of coffee. Stat.

“It’s probably because I got swept off into Applied Sciences pretty quickly after that… I heard his bodyguard came back, asking for a meeting but I wasn’t there, and then he just…

“Never came back.”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/130699946204/dont-let-go-olicity-arrow-s4)
> 
> I took quite a few creative liberties here, ya’ll, and took heavy inspiration from both The Flash and (especially) Supergirl, since they’re all in the same ‘verse. I hope you guys liked it! (I was also on a serious Fringe high when I wrote this, that leant itself to the general idea.)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	24. Accidental Proposal (post 4x01)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous: Hey Bre, I also wondered why Oliver put the ring in the bowl, so I got to thinking: maybe it was because he didn't want it in his pocket because he knew sexy times were coming, and he didn't want the ring accidentally falling out of his pants when they're throwing their clothes off, or Felicity maybe finding it somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what if he hadn't put it in the bowl and it'd stayed in his pocket?
> 
> ([gifs](http://vampire-blondie.tumblr.com/post/130722215759))

The sound of the fire crackling slowly pierced through the fog in his head, slicing through the slowing rush of blood echoing in his ears. He leaned into Felicity where he had her pressed up against the pillar, her heartbeat thundering against his chest, perfectly in-sync with his, her breathing gradually evening out. She pulsed around him, her muscles spasming, her limbs trembling, the aftershocks of her orgasm still radiating through her.  


She nuzzled her face into his hair, her tiny breaths dancing over the shell of his ear as she hummed with deep-seated satisfaction, holding him a little tighter.

“Pillars are a great thing,” she whispered and he chuckled tiredly, pushing his face into her neck, resting his head on her shoulder. He didn’t want to move… but he really had to move - he could feel himself starting to slip out of her slick heat and his body was getting lethargic enough that leaning against the pillar wasn’t going to cut it.  


“A nice welcome home,” he replied.

He felt her bite her lip as she smiled. “Home, huh?”

“Anywhere you are is home, Felicity,” he said with a content sigh and she ducked her head, her smile growing, her lips brushing against his ear.  


“Have I mentioned that having a sappy boyfriend is the best thing ever?” she asked softly, and it was his turn to grin.

“Maybe once or twice,” he said, and she giggled, making him slip further from where was nestled inside her. 

Oliver groaned pitifully, savoring it for just another second before he gripped her waist, sliding her up the pillar a little bit, pulling out of her. Felicity gave him that little noise she always made when he left her warmth, a sound halfway between a whimper and a moan as he set her back on her feet. 

He tucked himself back into his boxers, her head falling back, hitting the pillar with a dull thud. His eyes danced up along the wood for a second before he lifted an amused eyebrow at her, barely an inch of space between them.

“Any splinters?”

Felicity sighed. “I’m still pleasantly numb, so if I do have any…” She sagged against the pillar with a smile. “I don’t know about ‘em yet.”

“Mm,” Oliver whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead, running his fingers through her hair. “Well if you find any, let me know. I’ll have to kiss them better.”  


Felicity made a delightful noise, kissing his stubbled chin, delirious with afterglow and happiness. “You should probably check before they start hurting. For… reasons.”

Oliver made an inquisitive sound, his lips grazing hers as he wrapped her up, tugging her closer.  


“Yep,” she said, nodding. She snaked her arms around his waist, her fingers dipping into his pants where they’d somehow managed to stay around his hips. “But you definitely won’t be needing these.”  


“Oh?” he replied with a grin and she pulled back, scrunching her nose before she unzipped his pants all the way and pushed them down. 

Felicity dropped before him, kneeling, tugging them all the way off, and he lifted his leg to assist her, falling forward to hold the pillar for balance as she pulled his pants off, his grin threatening to break his face as he watched her.  


Everything was perfect… 

Until he heard it.

A gentle ping sounded, followed by a series of little metallic clinks as…

Oliver’s lungs seized and he froze at the same time Felicity did, both of them staring at the ring laying on the ground where it’d fallen out of his goddamn pocket. 

_The ring._

_Shit._

“Uh…” he breathed… and that was all he had. 

That was it, that was all, because the engagement ring - _his mother’s ring_ , the ring he was going to give her just a few days ago, the ring that had been in a souffle waiting for her to _see it_ \- was on the ground, _right there_.

Neither of them moved for it.  


“Is that…?” Felicity couldn’t look away from it. She slowly dropped his pants where they were still wrapped around one of his ankles and reached for it with shaky fingers. “Oh.”

“Felicity, I…”   


 _Say the words, dumbass, use your words_.

But he was speechless. 

This was _not_  how it was supposed to go.

She held the ring, settling back on her haunches, and Oliver just stared at it, his mouth hanging open.

Why he wasn’t _speaking?_

Felicity looked up and she lifted the ring up to him, almost like _she_ was the one proposing to  _him._

The second their eyes met, everything clicked into place.

“Marry me,” Oliver whispered, staring down at her. 

Later he’d realize he’d just asked his fiancee to marry him while she was the one kneeling before him, rumpled to hell from sex, her thighs and dress stained, his pants tangled around his feet, his boxers barely on, smeared with their combined mess… but he wouldn’t care, because it was still…  


_Perfect._

“We’re backwards,” Felicity replied.

Oliver nodded like that was the most logical thing she could’ve said.  


“Yeah.”

“Did you…?”  


“Yeah.”  


“Is this…?”  


“Yeah.”  


“Oh… _oh_ … yeah.” Felicity nodded… and then she blinked, a spontaneous sheen of moisture covering her eyes. “Okay.” And then she started, shaking her head. “Yes, I mean _yes_.”

Oliver released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“Yes,” she said, still nodding, reaching for him. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Oliver laughed incredulously and he pulled her off the floor right into his arms. Her laughter matched his as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and his heart skipped a beat when he felt the ring sliding on her index finger, the tiny ridge of it gliding over his back as she clutched him close.  


“Yes,” she whispered, pulling back. She was grinning so wide, so beautifully, so happily… 

 _God, he loved her so much._  

Felicity kissed him, once, twice… over and over, whispering, “ _Yes_ ,” before Oliver finally cut her off, capturing her lips in a soul-searing kiss, one that matched the kiss they would share two years later when they finally became man and wife.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/130766584614/hey-bre-i-also-wondered-why-oliver-put-the-ring)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	25. I'm Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in Season 4. Prompt - Anonymous: Olicity-7 (007: “I’m cold. Come closer.”)

“I’m cold.”

Felicity’s eye popped open, staring at Oliver where he laid _right there_. His eyes were closed, his lids twitching slightly like he had to force them to stay that way, a tiny smile dancing over his lips.

She lifted her head just enough to open both eyes and look at him… to just _look_ at him because he was the one with his back turned to the fire - the very nice, roaring fire that she felt just fine - and his very gorgeous naked body that was still very buried under the quilt.

 _Cold_.

Pfft.  


“Come closer,” he whispered, still not opening his eyes and she lifted an eyebrow, watching the smile on his face grow like he could feel her staring at him.

She only moved enough to push her very sex-ravaged hair off her face, not saying anything as she smiled at her ridiculously adorable boyfriend where he laid next to her, the lines of his body more than relaxed from their rather _arduous_ activities - activities that had taken a few hours, many, many hours, activities that had to be repeated multiple times because _practice_. His skin was flushed from their lovemaking, the flames dancing over his scars, highlighting how absolutely beautiful he was…  


He was so _cute._  


“Felicity…” Oliver breathed, rocking towards her slightly, pushing his lower lip out just enough to make it look like a pout without itactually _being_ a pout. She grinned, scooting a little closer, but just a little. He felt her moving, and he scrunched his nose, knowing she was playing with him. “I’m cold. Come closer.”

“Oh, okay, right,” she said, nodding, closing the rest of the distance between them. Oliver instantly pushed the quilt out of the way so there was nothing but _them_ , and she giggled as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him, her naked breasts pressing into his chest, his very evident arousal sliding up her belly. “Cold, huh?”

“Mmhmm,” he mumbled, nuzzling his face into her neck, lifting her closer. “Come closer…”

“Oliver,” she said, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I’m already… ahh!”

He rolled on his back, taking her with him until she was straddling him, his hardness sliding through her wet heat, making them both groan.   


Felicity sat up, rubbing against his length, making them both shudder as the quilt fell away. She rocked her hips, arching her back, gasping.  


“Mm, better,” Oliver sighed with a dopey grin and she looked down to see him staring up at her, his eyes dark with arousal, his lids hooded, his fingers squeezing her rhythmically as she rocked her hips.   


He licked his lips, pushing his hips up to get closer. Felicity gave him a breathless little whimper, one that had him pulling her down against him with a little more force. Her  hands covered his where they rested on her waist, moving with him, their eyes never breaking contact.   


She grinned down at him, his skin growing warmer, the flushed pink crawling across his skin. 

“Still cold? 

Oliver shook his head, his eyes straying to her breasts, her nipples pebbled from the mixture of chilly air coming through the open balcony door and hot warmth coming from the fire.

“Nope,” he replied, transfixed.

“’Cause if you are,” Felicity continued, her voice trailing off as he hit a particularly divine spot, right… _there_. She gasped his name, her head falling back, pleasure radiating through her. Forcing her eyes open, she looked back down at him, leaning forward onto his chest. “I could just…”

Felicity moved to leap off him, about to roll towards the fire with a laugh, but Oliver was too fast.   


He caught her with a growl, keeping her on top of him, one hand gripping her hip while the other spanned over her ass, pushing her down against him _hard_.

“Oh god,” Oliver moaned, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensations rolling through him. She rolled her hips and the sight of the pleasure on his face - the pleasure she was giving him - left her mouth dry.  


“Nope,” he barely managed. “Not cold anymore.”  


They moved at the same time.

He helped lift her up as she reached between them. She grasped him tightly, earning a choked gasp from him as she guided him to her entrance. He grazed across her sensitive flesh, making her cry out, her hips bucking, seeking _more…_ and then he was right where he wanted to be.   


Oliver thrust into her without warning, filling her to the hilt, sliding into her with an ease that left her breathless, their mixed cries of need and love echoing through the loft as they made love to each other in front of the fire, pushing each other, yearning towards each other, needing more and more… until there was nothing left but _bliss_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/131047453569/olicity-7)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	26. You're Really Soft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in Season 4. Prompt: Olicity and 1 please!! (001: “You’re really soft.”)

Felicity tugged Oliver’s sweater tighter around her shoulders, switching the bathroom light off, leaving the dim lighting coming from her side of the bed, highlighting him where he laid sprawled out across the bed. She’d spent the entire night with him on the comms, but even if she hadn’t, she’d be able to read the exhaustion in the lines of his body, the deep, even breaths signaling he was fading fast, the heavy set of his shoulders where he laid with his arm pillowing his head, his other hand thrown out limply.

She paused, taking a moment. staring at him. It never ceased to amaze her how absolutely surreal her life was now. She was in a relationship with that guy, that guy draped across the bed without a single care, knowing without a single doubt that he was in a place he could be himself, where he could let go, let himself just _be…_ This was theman she loved with her entire being, a man who’d spent the entire summer showing her he loved her back with just as much ferocity and passion, showing her it’d never been one-sided, that he’d been there every step of the way, who’d made her feel more cherished and special than anyone in her life ever had. He’d taken a leap, he’d trusted her to be there, and she had been, just like he had been for her.

Her chest filled with warmth and happiness, knowing he’d let go like he had because he knew she’d be there, that he trusted her to take care of him when he didn’t have anything left.

She stepped further into the room, padding softly.

He’d barely left himself enough energy to strip, leaving him in just his boxers where he’d fallen. She knew he’d had every intention of moving so his face wasn’t buried at the foot of the bed, so he could slip under the comforter, wrapping himself around her as he did every night, so he could at least make some darn room for her…

Felicity dropped to her knees at the end of the bed and laid down next to him, her face right in front of his, his light breaths the dewy hair on her cheek. A little smile tugged at his lips, even though he was more than halfway to his dream world, and she smiled back, biting her bottom lip, that same full feeling filling her chest.

She loved him.

So much.

“Hey there,” she whispered and he grunted, not moving… but his smile widened. “You’re being the bed hog tonight.”  


Oliver snorted, making her grin. Felicity nuzzled her nose against his before she scooted closer, moving up so her lips grazed his, just barely, his nose brushing her chin, his stubble scraping at her. It took him not even a second to respond, kissing her back, his free hand coming up to cup the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair.

“You’re really soft,” he said against her lips.  


“Mm…” Felicity smiled, kissing him with even more softness. “You know… it’s a lot softer up there.”

He grunted again, more than content to stay right there, kissing her with a lazy precision that somehow made her feel like she was floating in a place of serenity while also sending her heart racing. Everything he did made her feel like that, like she was being shot into the sky but somehow grounded at the same exact time.

“Come on, sleepyhead,” Felicity said softly, cuddling closer despite herself. She sighed in contentment as his natural warmth seeped into her. “Let’s go to bed.”  


“’Kay,” Oliver hummed, barely nodding, kissing her again, his voice fading. 

When Felicity finally moved to pull away, his hold on her tightened, keeping her in place for one more kiss, a kiss that made her body tingle with awareness, a tiny whimper escaping her.

“I love you,” he mumbled against her lips and she smiled, pressing both hands to the back of his head so they were cradling each other as she whispered, “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/131067714344/olicity-and-1-please)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	27. Did That Really Just Happen? (4x02 spec)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous: Bre!! CEO Felicity smoak is making me question my sexuality!! Can you please write a fic about CEO felicity from a 3rd person perspective. love you. Have a good day!!

_It was only a matter of time._

Julie sat along the wall with the other assistants and a really tall guy from the Designs department whose eyes danced from each board member like he was pretty sure one of them was going to bite his head off. Her foot tapped lightly on the floor, her fingers dancing over the folder she held as silence reigned the room.

They were waiting for the new CEO, for Felicity Smoak.

Julie tried to think about the woman she’d only met once, in passing - _literal ball of sunshine_ was one way to describe her, she was almost freakishly happy and balanced, almost like she took drugs to erase the fact that she worked for a multi-billion dollar company that actually sucked one’s soul out through their nose \- but her mind was way too scattered. She couldn’t even concentrate on the fact that she’d forgotten to bring a pen to the meeting.

She had one job and it was to take stupid notes during this stupid board meeting and she didn’t even bring a _pen._

She was worried.

The rumors were gaining traction everywhere: the company was slipping under - it _had_ been under, it’d been living in the red for months now - and they had to make some drastic changes if they wanted to save it, if they wanted to at least keep it afloat, which meant…

_Layoffs._

_Cutbacks._

Julie was good at her job, she was really good at her job, but she was also more than aware of the fact that her job wasn’t exactly _necessary_. It was a job that the company could cut until they were back on their feet, a job - like hundreds of others in the company - that they could lose for a while and not have everything go under.

She was nervous. She didn’t _want_ to be nervous, but she was nervous, way too nervous, so nervous because she knew that the tall guy was here for that very reason, that he’d put together some program that narrowed down the people the company could do without, and that this meeting was going to be about that.

Felicity Smoak’s first active role in the company was going to be firing people.

Shitty, for sure, but shittier for the people who were going to lose their jobs.

She should’ve just moved to Coast City like her mother told her to last year. She’d had that job offer - if you could call it a job offer, it was more of a pity party, but still, it was a _job_. It wouldn’t have been easy, but it wouldn’t have been _this_.

The sharp clack of heels sounded in the hallway and almost every single head turned towards the doors as Felicity Smoak pushed through them.

Something harsh - a viciously ugly mixture of anxiety and fear - stabbed Julie’s heart.

“Wow,” Ms. Smoak said, a grin on her face. “You guys look bigger than you did when you were on my computer screen.”

Julie blinked - she was so… _casual_. So _unworried_. Was this a good thing?

Ms. Smoak made a gesture with her hands to imitate a computer screen, but nobody responded. Instead, Mr. Parelin let out a sigh, which Julie took as her signal.

“Perhaps we should begin with this quarter’s financials,” her boss said, his voice dry - he’d adopted that tone the second he’d officially met Felicity Smoak, and it hadn’t gone away.

Julie hopped up, handing the folder to Ms. Smoak.

“Thank you!” she said, offering Julie a bright smile… and despite herself, Julie felt almost better at the sight.

_Safe._

Julie sat down as Ms. Smoak opened the folder. She knew what she would see, knew exactly how bad the numbers were because she’d been the one to put the memo together, and she watched Ms. Smoak’s face grow pale.

“Uh… okay,” Ms. Smoak said, slowly moving towards her seat. “I know I don’t have a business degree or an accounting degree or an MBA, but this looks… very, _very_ bad.”

“These are hard times for everyone in Star City,” Mr. Parelin said as Ms. Smoak sat down. “This company’s not immune.”

Julie almost snorted.

_Understatement._

Rabid fear for her job kept her quiet.

“Fortunately, Mr. Holt has advised us of a way out.”

_A way out._

Was that feeling slowly filling her chest - the feeling that there was a balloon full of acid in her chest cavity - was that normal? Was that good?

_No._

Julie blinked rapidly as the tall guy stood up, stepping up quickly to the table. Julie’s eyes flew to Ms. Smoak and that smile was on her face still. She was… _calm_. And confident. Collected. Cool. A lot of good c-words. She certainly didn’t look like she was going to fire anyone.

They never did though, did they?

“Uh, hello,” the guy - Mr. Holt - said. “I’m actually not a member of the board, I work in the Designs Innovation department.”

Ms. Smoak opened her mouth to respond but Mr. Parelin beat her to it, his eyes never leaving the CEO.

It felt like a ridiculously passive aggressive challenge.

“Tell Ms. Smoak about your algorithm.”

“It’s pretty simple, actually,” Mr. Holt said, nodding. “I used a specialized AI to determine maximum profits which can be derived with the minimal amount of work force reduction.”

_Work force reduction._

Julie’s tongue suddenly tasted like chalk, and the smile on Ms. Smoak’s face was gone.

Definitely chalk.

And that was acid climbing up her gullet, making her chest burn.

Mr. Holt shook his head slightly, drawing Julie’s eye as he danced in one spot, a self-deprecating laugh in his voice as he said, “Sorry, I probably could’ve explained that better.”

“No, I got the gist,” Ms. Smoak said and Julie’s eyes flew back to her. The words came out strong and resolute. The CEO cocked her head, her eyes zeroing in on Mr. Holt. “You came up with a list of people that you’d like me to fire.”

Julie’s chest tightened.

_Oh god, please not me, please not me._

That only made her feel guilty because she didn’t want _anyone_ fired, but she definitely didn’t want to get fired. She couldn’t afford it. The job in Coast City was gone, people had already fled the city in droves, leaving nothing but hulks of empty businesses and drowning companies in their wake. What would she do? Where would she go?

“Work force reduction has a… nicer sound to it,” Mr. Holt said, and Julie knew he knew exactly how shitty it was. “It just kinda rolls off the tongue…”

“Yeah, I’m not going to do that,” Ms. Smoak said, her eyes snapping back to Mr. Parelin. In the next second they were flying back to Mr. Holt as she said, “Thank you, for that, for the work you did.” Back to Mr. Parelin. “But that’s not happening.”

Mr. Parelin squared his jaw, his tone disparaging. “Ms. Smoak, you clearly do not understand…”

Ms. Smoak’s eyes narrowed, and a chill fell down Julie’s spine as instead of backing down - as most people did in the face of Mr. Parelin’s almost impressive distaste for people who didn’t fall in line - she stood up to him, leaning forward, looking him straight in the eye.

“I didn’t come back to this company to put the people who work here out of work,” Felicity Smoak said, and Julie’s chest tightened again, but this time for a different reason.

 _Hope_.

“I came here to protect Ray Palmer’s legacy.”

“And if we do not dramatically reduce our costs or increase our profits, there won’t be a legacy to protect,” Mr. Parelin snapped.

Julie almost expected the new CEO to at least pause, to at least take a second to recognize the force being thrown right back in her face, that she was being challenged not just by Mr. Parelin, but the entire board if their silence was any indication.

Cutting jobs was the solution and that was that.

It was her against the Palmer Tech board, and the odds weren’t good.

“Reducing the work force would give us a headway,” Mr. Parelin said. “A  headway we could use to regain the ground we’ve lost with investors. It’s our only option. _Ms. Smoak_.”

She didn’t back down.

Instead, Ms. Smoak just smiled.

“Yeah, well, the only thing we’ll be reducing is all of your bonuses.”

Julie’s jaw dropped as Ms. Smoak closed the folder, giving Mr. Parelin a _pointed_ smile.

“To start.”

Mr. Parelin just stared at her.

Cutting board member bonuses? 

Was this real?

“Whoa,” Julie whispered, and Michelle leaned over with a, “Did that really just happen?”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/131173963379/bre-ceo-felicity-smoak-is-making-me-question-my)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	28. Boss at Work, Boss at Home (4x02 spec)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous: Um yeah we're gonna need some hot felicity being bossy in the bedroom fic tonight and oliver loving it ;) Enjoy the ep!

  
  
[Source](http://oliver-and-felicity.tumblr.com/post/131170867516)   


Oliver paused where he was cutting the array of vegetables for the salad when he heard her key sliding in the lock, the quick flick of her wrist pulling the deadbolt back. As she opened the door, he smiled, turning his attention back to the cucumber, listening to her set her purse down, dropping her keys in the designated ‘key bowl’ before making her way into the kitchen. Oliver slid the cucumber across the cutting board, the knife falling with quick, even strokes, slicing it into paper-thin pieces.  


“How did it go with the board?” he asked, glancing up as she turned the corner.

He immediately knew something was up, and the knife froze again. 

Felicity’s eyes flew around the kitchen, settling on the stove before seeing what he was doing, before meeting his. 

He slowly raised an eyebrow, more than recognizing that look in her eye as she came up, snatching up a few pieces of cucumber, eating them whole.

“I crushed it,” she said with a smile - a _gorgeous_ damn smile. She was _glowing_ … and she was taking her blazer off, dropping it on the floor.

“Felicity…” 

He vaguely felt himself set the knife down as he turned to face her, watching her every move with rapt attention.

“I _more_ than crushed it,” she said, unzipping her skirt, shimmying her hips so it slid down into a rumpled pile, joining her blazer on the floor, leaving her in a suddenly very see-through white blouse and a bright pink lace thong that… 

Oliver groaned, staring at the little triangle of material. She stepped towards him, fisting the front of his shirt, not saying another thing as she pulled on it, pulling him with her… into the living room… to the couch.

“Take off your pants, Oliver,” she said softly, her voice husky. Goddamn, he’d already been hard but the quiet command in her voice, the straight lines in her back, the expectant look in her eye as she turned to look back at him, waiting…

He felt himself swelling with arousal, growing harder, his hard-on pushing painfully against the suddenly way-too tight jeans he was wearing.

Felicity lifted an eyebrow… and his hands were flying to his zipper. 

His eyes stayed on hers as he tugged his pants off, stepping out of them, pushing his boxers down his legs until he was wearing nothing but the thermal he’d put on to go to the new “Arrow Cave” when darkness hit…  


None of that mattered as Felicity, a little smile tugging at her lips that made his cock jump, pushed on his chest until the back of his knees hit the couch and he dropped.

Oliver’s mouth fell open in a needy pant as she stood before him, her shapely legs looking amazing and miles long in the heels she was still wearing. He didn’t move an inch despite the itch in his palms to reach for her, to feel her warm skin under his touch, to hear that gaspy moan she always gave him when he pressed his fingers between her wet folds… he didn’t move, something telling him she didn’t want him to.

Felicity slowly pulled her blouse up and over her head, letting it fall from her fingers into a graceless heap on the floor before she hooked her fingers in the thong and slowly slid it down, the material catching between her gorgeous thighs before it slid the rest of the way.

Oliver’s mouth went _dry_.

“Felicity,” he croaked and she smiled - _that goddamn smile_ \- before she crawled on the couch and straddled him, her hands landing on his shoulders, his length sliding through her heat. She was already wet, so wet… His lids fluttered shut. “Oh god.”

“Look at me, Oliver,” she whispered and his eyes snapped open, finding hers. She ran her hands down his arms and pulled them up over to the back of the couch, pushing them behind his head, her hips rotating just enough… Her voice hitched slightly as she moaned, “ _Oliver_ …”

He groaned, his head falling back, his hips thrusting up, aching with the need to thrust up into her, to feel her warmth clamping down on him…

Felicity clasped his wrists in one little hand, knowing the power of her will was the only thing really keeping him from moving, and reached between them, grasping him in a tight fist. 

He shuddered, her powerful gaze keeping him from looking away, from shutting his eyes, pleasure swamping him from that alone as she guided him to her soaking entrance.

He slid through her ample juices, grazing her clit, before she thrust down, taking his entire length in one swift move, making him cry out her name in a desperate plea.

Felicity moved hard and fast. She kept his wrists behind his head, controlling everything, dictating every single move, her hips moving with a quick precision that had his release building way too damn fast… but she was right there with him. 

Their combined cries echoed through the loft, growing louder with need… 

“Oh god!” Felicity shouted, her back bowing, her entire body quaking with effort… and then she exploded around him, her inner walls sucking him in with a pained pleasure that threw him right over the edge with her, his guttural, “Oh god, _oh_ … Felicity!” carrying throughout the loft as he fell apart in her arms.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/131183096944/um-yeah-were-gonna-need-some-hot-felicity-being)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	29. He Had Her (4x03 missing scene)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A missing scene from 4x03. Written for [Em (aka olicity-i-believe-in-you)](http://olicity-i-believe-in-you.tumblr.com/), who had a special request.

  
  
[Source](http://emilybestrickards.tumblr.com/post/131517985361)   


The fire was mesmerizing.

Oliver stared at it, watching the flames dance back and forth, twisting over and under, orange turning into a dusky red here, fading to a light gold there…

Light plumes of smoke drifted up, disappearing…

He was vaguely aware of the television still on, the images barely registering in his peripheral,  having abandoned the bright images a while ago.

Felicity sighed where she sat cuddled next to him under a small throw. Her back was pressed to his side, her knees pulled up, her tablet cradled in her lap, just above his arm where it he had wound around her waist, keeping her anchored to him. He drew absent circles on her hip as she whipped through multiple screens, her nail tapping on the screen as she typed, mumbling under her breath.

Every once in a while, the flames would morph; they’d change, switching around just right, and he’d see something else… see someone else.

Diggle’s words still echoed in his head.

Oliver watched him in his mind’s eye walking away - _again_ \- the man’s back straight as a rod, his shoulders tight and angry, his steps heavy with finality as he swept out of the basement, leaving a wave of aggravated bitterness in his wake.

It didn’t matter what Oliver did or said, what he tried to do or how much he wanted to close the gaping hole that existed between them, every single word he said bounced right off the other man, as ineffective as a piece of paper trying to keep a hailstorm out.

Diggle had every right and more to be upset, to want to question his moves and his motives, to hold what Oliver had done to him and his family over him as he was, and Oliver more than understood and respected that… he had, as Felicity described it over the summer, “screwed the pooch over and over with the whole League thing.”

But he also wanted to _fix_ it, to get started on repairing what was broken between them.

John was barely interesting in _seeing_ Oliver, much less hearing what he had to say.

It hurt, more than he would’ve thought possible. With each dismissive sound or blank look from the man who had once been so integral to his existence, he couldn’t imagine a life without him, the knife cut deeper.  The more Oliver pushed, the more he _tried_ , the further Diggle slipped away. This was his _brother_ , his best friend, his confidante and guiding force, and he knew he’d damaged them, but Diggle wasn’t even _trying_. He didn’t _want_ to fix what had ruptured.

He wanted nothing to do with Oliver.

So what was the point in trying anymore, trying to recapture what they had once been, trying to get back to that? Every step Oliver tried to take, every time he tried to open something between them again, Diggle slammed the door in his face. He knew they couldn’t get back to what they had been before he’d blown it all to pieces, he’d accepted that the second he’d seen the way Diggle looking at him when they’d first come back. _That_ friendship was gone, it was no longer possible… so what did that leave?

Could they ever be friends again, could they ever get close to what they had been before?

Could they be anything past two people who shared a common goal when it came to Star City, two people who merely tolerated each other, barely speaking to each other?

Was that enough?

No, it wasn’t, Oliver knew that in his gut…

So what then? The more he tried, the further Diggle got. If he stopped trying, nothing would happen.

Oliver had no idea what to do.

Felicity shifted next to him, yanking him out of his thoughts. Her tablet slid further into her lap as she leaned her head back, looking up at him. He glanced over, smiling - he always smiled when he looked at her, it was completely involuntary; it was a natural reaction, a natural _acknowledgement_ of how very aware he was that while other things were on their way towards falling apart - _Thea_ \- and others were nearly irreconcilable - _John_ \- he had her.

“Hey,” Oliver whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Felicity smiled, looking up at him, her hand coming up, her fingers carding through his hair, cupping the back of his head. He sighed, leaning into her touch as she scraped her nails over his scalp, his eyes slipping closed as she comforted him, doing exactly what he needed in that moment.

It never ceased to amaze him how a single touch from her could do so much… she just had to look at him, or her fingers graze over his, or a smile pull at those beautiful lips of hers, and he instantly felt better, felt more grounded.

She made him feel like he could do anything, like anything was possible… and at that very moment, that feeling was intoxicating.

“Your brain needs a break,” Felicity said.

Oliver opened his eyes. She was studying him, her lips puckered slightly, a peculiar intensity painting her face.

“A break, huh?”

“Yep… a distraction,” she said.

She barely gave him a second to raise an eyebrow in question before she was sitting up, tossing her tablet to the other side of the couch.

He watched her, already missing her warmth as she slid off the couch… and down to the floor, crawling between his legs.

Oliver’s breath hitched, his body hardening at the prospect of whatever _distraction_ she had in mind.

She spread his knees, settling between them, the throw somehow wrapped around her shoulders now, hiding the tank top he knew she was wearing, making her look sexier than absolute hell, so intimately comfortable and beautiful.

His eyes stayed locked on her as she looked up at him with a little smile, her hands sliding up his thighs, her nails scraping at him through his sweats. Oliver let out a tremulous sigh, one they both heard loud and clear, and Felicity bit her bottom lip, sending his arousal shooting through the roof as she hooked her fingers in the band of his sweats and tugged them down.

Any thought he might’ve had flew right out of his head. Oliver had no idea what he’d been thinking a second ago.

He could barely think _now_ as he lifted his hips, aiding her just enough for him to pop free. He was aware of nothing but her, of watching her, totally transfixed by everything about her.

She wrapped her hand around him, her eyes never leaving his as she leaned forward, her tongue darting out for a taste.

Oliver choked on his next breath, his hips jerking up for more, but she kept him still, taking her time.

His hands moved of their own volition, going straight for her ponytail; he gently tugged on it, pulling the tie out, dropping it on the floor, freeing her hair. He ran his fingers through it, mussing it, and Felicity hummed her satisfaction, making him gasp, feeling every single vibration through her.

Oliver gripped the strands softly, using both hands, cradling her head as she teased him…

And then she took him into her mouth, wrapping her lips around him so tightly he groaned her name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/131599311589/he-had-her-olicity-4x03-m)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	30. Salmon Ladder (4x04 spec)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - herokillians: Felicity sees oliver doing the salmon ladder again after coming back and sweaty shenanigans ensue ;)

He was waiting for her. 

She was almost _positive of it_. 

She knew the sound the salmon ladder made, the very specific clang that told her Oliver was very likely shirtless and using all those glorious muscles she’d spent more than a few hours mapping with her tongue to climb it, to go up, and up, and… _up_ …

She _knew_.

Which was why she also knew that Oliver’d been waiting for her to come around the corner, because… 

There he was…

And then up he went.

“Oh,” Felicity breathed, stopping dead in her tracks, watching him climb. 

His face was a mask of concentration as he kept an eye on his progress, making sure he was hitting the right marks, and she watched him, licking her lips. She _could_ watch now, she could watch him all she wanted, doing the thing. He was doing The Thing and oh boy, she wondered if Thea and Laurel had left already because he was doing The Thing and she was wondering how quickly she could get out of her pants. 

But no, she couldn’t. She _shouldn’t._   _They_ shouldn’t, it wasn’t just her, he knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew that it was the middle of the day and she was on her lunch and good impressions did not include sex hair, sex-wrinkled clothes, boy smell on her…  


Oh, but it’d be okay just this once. 

Oliver reached the top with a sharp exhale and she slowly shook her head in wonder as he hung from the bar, his body lengthening. The position made his arms so long, his shoulders so broad, his muscles all taut with tension, every inch of him narrowing down to his hips, his gloriously beautiful hips and those pants that were just tight enough…

“I’m so glad we came back,” she said.

Because _that_ , that right there, that made everything _worth it_.

Oliver dropped to the ground gracefully, and she didn’t realize she was grinning until he looked at her, and his face lit up with his own smile.

“Hi,” he said cheekily, stretching his shoulders, his sweaty skin catching some of the lights in their new lair.

Her mouth went dry.

Felicity narrowed her eyes.  


“You, Oliver Queen, are trouble,” she said, pointing the folder at him. He just smiled, making his way towards her. She took a step back with a, “Trouble with a capital T,” but he didn’t relent, following her until she backed up into the railing separating the levels. “Oliver…”  


He placed his hands on the railing at her hips, crowding her in. Felicity shivered at the heat coming off him in waves and took a tremulous breath, her eyes dropping to his mouth. When he licked them, she let out a little whimper that made his lips tick.

“I missed you watching me,” he said softly, his hands sliding on the rail as he closed her in.   


“Oh?” she managed just as he touched her hips. “You noticed, huh?”  


“Mm-hmm,” Oliver said, leaning in closer.

“That’s good,” Felicity said, nodding, swallowing. “Good. Very… good. Wow, you’re sweaty.”  


“Mm-hmm,” he said again, his grin growing, and she almost pulled back to chastise him, because really, he knew exactly what he was doing. He knew exactly how much she enjoyed it when he was all… _sweaty_. Everything about him was amplified when he was like this - he smelled better, he tasted so good, he felt so nice when he pressed against her…

“Work,” she whispered desperately. “Work, must… go back to…”  


Oliver’s lips brushed over hers.

The folder slipped out of her hand, landing on the floor with a crash as she grabbed his face and yanked him down for a kiss that made her spine tingle just as his hands slid around her, cupping her ass. He dipped down just enough to lift her up, his muscles tensing and bunching with the effort and she gloried in it, wrapping her legs around his waist as he spun them around, pushing her up against the nearest wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/131724824714/felicity-sees-oliver-doing-the-salmon-ladder-again)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	31. Height Difference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in Season 4. Prompt - Anonymous: Can you write something fluffy about the olicity height difference? Idk maybe he's holding something up high out of her reach and she's jumping to try and get it? I don't know. I don't care. Anything! !!!

Five glorious minutes.

That’s all he’d gotten that night.

Five minutes of perfect, unadulterated Felicity time. She’d been on point about their extracurricular activities at the lair and on the way home, talking about the newest blood scan from one of the Ghosts they’d managed to get, and then she’d run upstairs to change into something more comfortable before coming back down, adorably barefoot and clad in plaid pajama bottoms that featured little turtles hiding here and there, running her fingers over the back of his neck, kissing his cheek and then…

Work.

Oliver stared at her. She was hunched over the table, meticulously going through spreadsheets of something or other. He hadn’t asked and she hadn’t volunteered because they both knew it would be Greek to him. He’d barely looked at any of that crap when he _was_  CEO, and here she was, logging in extra hours, going like she was made of pure energy. She was amazing, beyond amazing… but she had to sleep at some point. The night before she’d brought the work into bed with them, the night before that she’d had it sprawled out all over her desk at the lair and the day before that she’d been talking in her sleep about dragons in board meetings.

She needed a _break_ … and he was going to give her one.

She didn’t hear him come up behind her. She barely shifted when he paused behind her, looking over her shoulder, watching her pen drift over the page as she mumbled to herself…

One second she was reading a piece of paper, and the next it was gone as Oliver snatched it out of her hands.

“What, hey,” Felicity said, spinning on her stool to find him backing up a few paces, hiding the paper behind his back. She raised her eyebrows. “Uh. Oliver. What are you doing?”

“I’m thinking we need a new rule.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him as she slid off the stool and took a step towards him. 

“No more work at home.”  


“That’d be great, except the company is still swimming in really dark, ugly blood-red water, Oliver. Do you want to know how much money we’re still hemorrhaging? And by hemorrhaging I mean we are, like, literally throwing money away..” She made a move to snatch it out of his hands but he spun away, holding it over his head. “Oliver, give me the paper.”  


“No,” he said simply. “Not until you promise no more work at home.”  


Felicity opened her mouth to retort before changing her mind. 

She pursed her lips with purpose, her eyes drifting up to the paper he held above his head.

And then she smiled, and Oliver didn’t trust it one bit. 

“Fine. Alright, I…” Felicity leapt at him. “Give me the paper, Oliver!”

Oliver laughed, dodging back, holding it out of her reach as she jumped to yank it out of his hand but she was too short - she could barely reach his forearm, much less his hand a couple feet over her head.

That didn’t stop her from trying through, or from using him as a vault to get more height as she jumped, trying to grab it out of his hand much to his amusement. She shouted at him, demanding he give it back, but Oliver kept her at bay, fending her off with his free hand, his laughter dissolving into giggles that matched hers as they made their way around the loft. She tried to use the couch to get on his back but he just caught her, maneuvering the paper out of reach much to her dismay, and when he ran into one of the pillars, she almost got it, but he got it away from her just in time…

She finally paused.

“Fine,” she panted, glaring at him.

Oliver grinned, keeping the paper overhead.

“I really need that paper, Oliver,” she said breathily, her chest heaving, and despite himself, his eyes slid down. 

She wasn’t wearing a bra, and her tank top was decidedly _tight_.   


Felicity took a step towards him. He tensed, expecting her to jump on him again but instead she just shook her head in quiet exasperation, moving in to wrap her arms around him.

“You…” she whispered, pushing herself up on her toes to kiss his neck. Her lips grazed over his throat, making his eyes slip shut as little pleasurable zings zipped through him. But he kept his hand up. “… are right.”  


“Yes,” he sighed, nodding. “I am.”  


Felicity snorted, not deviating from her path as she trailed a series of kisses along his jaw and down again, making him moan softly. He leaned into her, wrapping his arm around her waist… 

 _This,_ this is what he’d wanted. Not just the way she made him feel, but his girlfriend _present_ , right there with him, taking their _them_  time without reminders of what they had to do on a daily basis… These little moments were the best parts of his day and he didn’t want to sacrifice them for anything…

Felicity suddenly slipped her hand into his pants and cupped him, making him choke on his next breath. She wrapped her fingers around him, his body hardening instantly, swelling under her feathery touch. She slid her finger over the tip, dipping her nail in the little slit, making him groan before she moved down to cup _everything._

Oliver gasped her name, clutching her closer, leaning over her to press his face into her hair as her tongue drifted over his collarbone…

“Felicity…”  


He realized too late what was happening.  


His hand had fallen down, the hand holding the paper, and the second it was within reach, Felicity grabbed it.

Oliver’s eyes snapped open in surprise as she laughed triumphantly, darting away from him.

“Hey!” he shouted, moving for her but she slipped past him.

He got one glimpse of her glowing face, of her lip disappearing between her teeth where she bit it, of her sparkling eyes wide with mischief… and then she was off, running for the stairs.

He was behind her before she could get out a yelp of surprise. He chased her up and into their bedroom, tackling her onto the bed, tickling her into submission until she begged him to stop… and then somehow she lost her top and his pants disappeared.

When Felicity went to find the paper the next morning, she found it crumpled up in his sweats at the foot of the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/131762194649/can-you-write-something-fluffy-about-the-olicity)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	32. In the Mayor's Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in Season 4. Inspired by a [tweet](https://twitter.com/smoaked_queen/status/657680175870644224) by Jo, and then it totally spiraled out of control courtesy of Magda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember we met Sander in [Suspenders](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4485846/chapters/11254384).

He should’ve said no. 

It was a bad idea, a gloriously bad idea, so bad that for one second he really had thought, _“Remember the insanely long pep talk Sander gave you this morning about scandals this morning? The one where he’d talked about people probably not caring too much since the city was at the point where they just wanted a warm body in the office, but still, he hadn’t exactly left the best taste in people’s mouths with his ‘colorful’ history of being a total jackass, the taint on his family name that still lingered, and the pesky fact that he’d been accused of being the Arrow multiple times…_  


_‘”Just keep your nose clean, Mr. Queen.’  
_

_“Just say no.”_  


He hadn’t said no… and damn it, _he just didn’t care_.

She’d come by for lunch, a little way for them to spend more time together, to get in a few more minutes now that both their schedules were jam-packed. She’d brought lunch with her, sitting on the other side of the desk as she’d explained what Curtis was up, how they’d almost burned the building down earlier that morning - _“On accident! The company’s not doing bad enough to actually burn it down… yet…”_ \- and he’d talked about Sander’s plan for getting him out into the city to start meeting the people of Star City.

It’d been so _innocent_ …

Until she’d mentioned how she didn’t exactly enjoy how early they had to get up anymore because that meant no more morning sex, something she’d really looked forward to - _“There’s really nothing like a morning orgasm to wake you right up”_ \- almost as much as the special visits he’d paid to her the few times he’d managed to get over to Palmer Tech to check in on her, to bring _her_ lunch…

And then…

Oliver’s head fell back in his chair, his hips surging up as he thrust into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around his length, making him groan under his breath, his skin _tingling_ with a hot awareness he felt over every inch of his body. 

He looked down at her, watching her lips wrapping around the tip, her cheeks hollowing, her tongue slipping over the little slit before she _sucked_.

“Oh god,” he managed in a broken whisper, his eyes glued on her.

Felicity looked up at him from under her lashes as she went back down, taking as much of him as she could into her mouth. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes dark with desire. Her glasses were sliding down her nose, and they were the only thing out of place - they somehow emphasized how perfectly coifed her hair was and the straight, clean lines of her suit jacket, highlighted how gorgeous and put-together she was where she kneeled on the ground before him.

She looked so goddamn sexy he almost tugged her up and threw her on the desk. 

His breathing grew more ragged at the thought of the noises she’d make, how good her inner walls would feel clamping down around him when he’d thrust into, her body sucking him in deeper as she wrapped her legs around him, the desk scraping against the ground as he pounded into her. 

He felt himself swelling, growing harder between her lips, and his hips moved up again, his hands digging into the arm of the chair, doing his best to not grab her, to not mess with her hair or do anything that would be visible in the meeting she had later that afternoon.

“Oh god, Felicity,” he moaned, keeping his eyes on the way she widened her mouth, how her pink-stained lips looked wrapped around his shaft, her head bobbing up and down on him.

He was close - maybe it was the excitement of doing it there, that he wasn’t allowed to touch her, that someone might walk in and catch them at any moment… he didn’t know and he didn’t care, he was so _close_ ; his muscles started to tighten, the familiar burn at the base of his spine grew hotter, white hot pleasure surging through him…

He felt like all the blood in his body was rushing straight to his center, preparing for that perfect moment when he’d…

An abrupt knock jerked Oliver back to reality.

He barely had time to do anything but grab the desk and pull himself forward, shoving Felicity underneath it, his dick still in her mouth, muffling her cry of surprise before the door was flying open and Sander was strolling in.

“Oliver, we gotta get these fliers figured out, they need to go out by tomorrow if you’re going to be heading out next week,” the man said, staring at the papers in his hands.

Felicity yanked back, letting him go abruptly; Oliver almost hissed at the sudden departure of her warm mouth when she suddenly rammed her head against the underside of the desk.

Sander stopped abruptly, his eyebrows shooting up and Oliver winced, instantly slapping the desk as Felicity whimpered a soft, “Ow.”

“I, uh…”

Oliver shifted, moving forward in the seat… and that was the worst decision ever. __

“I… hit my knee,” Oliver choked out, hitting the desk again, not needing to manufacture a face of pain… because _fuck_ , he was in _pain_. 

His pants had been open and loose and when he’d scooted forward in his seat, and they’d bunched up underneath him… and now his fly was _squeezing the fuck out of his balls_. The zipper was digging in _right there_ and good god, he wanted so badly to reach down and at least _move_ … but he didn’t dare. 

“That was… my knee…” he stammered. “That I hit.”

Sander just stared at him and Oliver wished to high hell his face wasn’t as red as it felt.

“Can I help you, Sander?” he asked, his voice somehow managing to stay mostly even.

Felicity shifted under the desk, rubbing against his legs, _jostling him_ , making the pants even _tighter_ and holy god…

“Yes,” Sander said, holding up the stack of papers in his hand. “Fliers. You hired me to help you get elected, and while it’s probably a shoe-in considering you’re the only one willing to even run anymore, the people still need to elect you, which means you need to help me with these fliers.”

It was all gibberish. 

Oliver didn’t  hear a single word.

“Right, okay, yep,” he said, nodding, clenching his jaw. “I can… do that. Just leave it.”

“What?” Sander asked, frowning.

“Them,” Oliver said, shaking his head. “Them, I meant them.” 

He gripped the desk to sit up a little bit, to take some of the pressure off his poor lower half - _because he was about to scream_ \- when he felt Felicity moving _again_ , but this time it wasn’t to get comfortable, or whatever the hell she’d been doing…

This time it was to lean forward and wrap her lips around the head of his cock.

“Oh… man!” Oliver said, forcing the sound into a laugh. Sander was just standing there. “That’s…” He pointed at his campaign manager, trying to keep a straight face as Felicity took more of him into her mouth, sucking on him, her tongue sliding around him, _twirling_ around him, like she wanted to drive him _right over the goddamn edge_. “I… uh…”

“Oliver, are you alright? Are you…” Sander cocked his head. “Don’t tell me you’re already having a mental breakdown, you haven’t even started.”

Felicity snorted under the desk, the vibrations traveling through her tongue and lips and _right into him_. 

Oh _god_ , he _wished_.

Oliver coughed to cover the sounds she made, shaking his head.

“No, no, I’m… fine, I’m fine, I just…” 

Felicity’s hands landed on his knees, and he barely kept the sound of surprise at bay as they traveled up, spreading his legs so she could get closer, all the while _tightening his pants_ … but this time it actually felt _good_ … 

He bit back the sounds building in his chest.

The sharp, stinging pain in conjunction with her hot little mouth sucking him off, it almost made his eyes cross… it almost made him _whimper_ because oh god, that felt so _good_ …

She was showing him no mercy, not a single ounce of it, and he was getting to the point where he didn’t _care_ that Sander was there.

“I just… I need a minute,” Oliver choked out, making a fist, letting it drop on the desk with a heavy thud. “Bad lunch.”

“Oh,” Sander said, still frowning. “Can I get you something, do you want some water, or…?”

“No! No… I just need a second,” he said in a rush, nodding, pointing at Sander. “Just…” 

Felicity suddenly twisted her head, craning her neck, taking more of him into her mouth, and the pressure of her cheek against his thigh pushing him so close into her throat made his eyes flutter and his jaw drop. 

“One second!” he blurted.

“Okay,” Sander said. 

Oliver thought he saw him set the fliers down, thought he heard him saying something else, thought he saw his hands moving, doing… _whatever_ , but he stopped caring, because all his attention was on the blonde between his legs.

The second the door shut behind Sander, Oliver pushed away from the desk, but Felicity was ready, anticipating the move. She didn’t let him get far, holding his chair in place, letting him move just enough so she could come out for leverage before she sprawled her hands over his thighs, nailing him in place, and…

“Oh… _god_ ,” Oliver whined, his head falling back as she sucked with a veracity that shook him to the core, her head bobbing, her tongue running along his length, her teeth scraping. He bumped against the back of her throat, over and over, and he felt her _swallowing_ down her gag reflex, felt her throat muscles _contracting_ around him, almost like she was sucking him in deeper.

Oliver’s hands found her head, and she didn’t fight him, letting him guide her movements as he pushed her down, his hips thrusting up, his cock disappearing into her mouth.

He was babbling, he knew he was, the sounds mixed in with moans and whimpers, with whispers of her name as he concentrated on the hot, wild burn starting to build deep inside him… 

He felt it in the palm of his hands, in the soles of his feet, a rush of pinpricks crashing through him until there was nothing left but…

His release came on without warning, and it sliced right through him.

Oliver tried to stop himself from crying out, but it was too much, and a low pitiful cry escaped him as he came, emptying himself into her mouth. Felicity’s hands covered his as she swallowed him down, taking every last bit, his hips jerking as she prolonged his pleasure, carrying him even further, making him cry out her name, the sound ending in a choked gasp.

He slumped into the chair, completely spent.

Felicity licked him clean, his hands falling limply to the side, his head lolling across the back of the chair. 

His mind was blank, blissfully blank, and he could barely do anything but open his eyes as Felicity slowly stood. 

He caught her wiping her mouth, sucking her finger between her swollen lips, and he groaned, his spent cock twitching at the sight.

Felicity smirked and leaned over, bracing herself on his shoulders. She pressed a kiss to his nose, and he could smell himself on her breath.

He managed a quiet little moan and she smiled, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips.

“That’s for that phone call,” she said.

Oliver frowned in confusion, before remembering when she’d been talking to her assistant about that gala, when he’d been between her thighs, _distracting her_ …

Oliver smiled without a single ounce of shame. “Worth it.”

Felicity laughed, rolling her eyes. She straightened and ran her hands over her hair, glancing back at the door before looking at him again.

“If Sander sees me leaving, I’m pulling out that cock ring when we get home.”

Oliver barely had enough energy to _move_ , much less realize his girlfriend had just been under his desk, her mouth wrapped around him while his campaign manager had been in his office, talking to him - he didn’t even remember what he’d said to him, much less what Sander had been saying… and where’d those fliers on his desk come from?

Despite all that, a small spike of desire shot through him at her words.

“Well then,” he said. “I really hope he sees you.”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember the phone call in [Color Schemes, Galas, and Oliver’s Tongue](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4485846/chapters/11254372)? _That's_ the phone call. I like how I connected two fics to this one, it's like I'm writing my own Season 4 smut 'verse.
> 
>  
> 
> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/131789964134/in-the-mayors-office-olicity-explicit-s4)
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	33. 2 a.m. Stir Fry (post 4x03)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous: I'm sure you're busy and I know it's not the weekend yet and you updated your other two stories (Blood Hands!!!) but any chance of post-ep smut? :D

“Mm,” she hummed.

Felicity stepped up behind Oliver, wrapping her arms around his waist where he stood at the stove. He leaned into her, his free hand coming up to cover hers as she pressed her face into his back, inhaling him - he smelled like a mixture of fresh laundry and soap, with the ever-present hint of leather, something he’d lost during the summer, and something she was really glad to have back.

The wonderful scent of the stir fry he’d thrown together slowly filled the loft.

“That smells so good,” she moaned, her voice muffled against his back and he chuckled, his shoulder blade moving against her as he stirred. She laid her check on him, causing her glasses to go askew. “I kinda forgot how hungry all this vigilante-ing can make you.”

“Did you do this a lot, before?” Oliver asked, reaching for the pepper. Felicity moved with him, not letting go. “Eat at two in the morning?”

“Well, it wasn’t this elaborate. It was more like… potato chips.” Oliver’s back rumbled against her with his silent huff of laughter, and she twisted her face in contemplation. “Or popcorn. You know, if I wanted something healthy.”

“Oh, right, sure,” Oliver said, the smile in his voice evident. “Because your idea of popcorn is so healthy.”

“Darn right it is. I’m very healthy _mentally_ when I am eating popcorn, and that’s important.” He shook his head and she stood up on her toes, trying to see over his shoulder as she said, “I also didn’t have a gorgeous gourmet chef at the time, and popcorn is very, very _makeable_ in my cookbook.”

“Except for when you broke the microwave.”

“Oh no, no, no,” Felicity replied patiently. “I don’t know why we’re remembering that so differently. That microwave broke itself.”

Oliver chuckled and Felicity hugged him tighter, leaning against him as he finished up.

The second they’d gotten home Oliver had tugged her upstairs and they’d silently undressed each other before falling into bed, making love, whispering soft words as they’d held each other close, seeking solace and comfort and reassurance in each other.

She was _tired_ \- a full day at the office followed by an even fuller night at her second job. Her back and shoulders were sore from that stupid machine gun and the adorable shoes she’d been wearing had been too new to be running for her life in so her feet were especially upset with her.

Bed sounded so good, bed with Oliver, bed with Oliver curled around her again, as he had been a few minutes ago, his steady breaths dancing over her shoulder, her fingers running through his hair, his arms wrapped around her as they took a tiny moment, that little moment she knew they’d both needed ever since Double Down had attacked the lair, ever since he’d attacked Oliver…

Just a second to reassure themselves that they were still there… that while he was covered in bruises and a nasty gash from one of those ridiculous cards, that she was still vibrating from the energy of that gun, they were still there.

_Together._

And then they’d gotten hungry.

Felicity’s stomach growled.

She _was_ hungry, but not just for food.

She wrapped her arms further around him, pressing her breasts through the long-sleeved shirt she’d thrown on, the one he’d worn home that night, into his back as one of her hands slid up his chest, sliding over his muscled abdomen, over his strong, broad chest… Her other hand slid down.

His breath caught as her fingers ghosted over him through his sweats.

“Felicity…”

“Hm?”

She didn’t stop.

She cupped him, massaging him through his pants, feeling him starting to harden under her touch. He moaned under his breath, bracing himself on the counter, his hips surging forward into her hand. She rubbed him harder, tightening her fingers around him, slowly moving up and down as his length grew, the soft material of sweats letting her move unhindered.

“You are insatiable,” he whispered and Felicity smiled, gripping him harder, her nails digging into his pec through his t-shirt.

“Only for you,” she replied.

Oliver let out a tremulous breath, still braced on the counter as he pushed the spoon through the stir fry one more time. His hips started to gently thrust, his head bowing as she rubbed him, feeling him growing under her ministrations. He stirred one more time, his arm shaking slightly… and then he was dropping the spoon.

He pulled the pan off the burner and shut the stovetop off.

Oliver spun in her arms, his hands coming up to cup her face, angling her head, his mouth covering hers in a heated kiss. Felicity moaned, fisting his t-shirt, her other hand sliding over his ass, gripping one of his cheeks, pushing him closer to her. Oliver groaned, the sound vibrating into her as he backed her up until she hit the counter.

He leaned her back over it, his kiss growing more demanding, more needy, kisses she met every inch of the way.

His hips surged against her in quick, hard thrusts, his heavy bulge pushing against her stomach, pushing her own need for him higher.

Felicity broke away from his lips to whisper, “Please… Oliver,” and he hands slid down her neck and arms, gripping her under her arms, lifting her up onto the countertop.

The tile was chilly against her heated thighs, making her gasp. Oliver swallowed the sound, his hands dropping down the length of her body, his fingers digging into the waistband of her shorts. He pulled back, taking them with him, and she lifted herself up, letting him slide them off, down her thighs and over her feet, leaving her bare for him, in nothing but his large thermal.

They fell to the kitchen floor as he stepped back into her warm embrace, his hands already shoving his sweats and boxers down, freeing his erection.

Felicity spread her legs, using his shoulders as leverage to lift herself up, her ass cheeks sticking to the counter, so she could spread herself wider and he groaned his approval, wrapping an arm around her waist, the other leaning on the counter as the head of his cock slid over her wet sex.

They both inhaled sharply, stealing each other’s breaths, their lips grazing over each other as he slipped through her wetness.

“Oliver,” she whimpered, holding onto his shoulders, pressing her forehead against his…

His lips covered hers in a searing kiss, leaving her breathless, and he gripped her hip, angling himself, finding her entrance…

He thrust home.

They moaned simultaneously, the sounds intermingling through their kiss. Oliver pulled out and thrust back in, sending her sliding against the counter and he wrapped his around her ass, holding her still as he thrust into her, filling her so deliciously, so perfectly. They moved together, soft moans and cries slowly filling the loft. Oliver moved with a glorious urgency, thrusting into her faster, his desperate need slicing through her. He whimpered into their kiss and Felicity shuddered in his arms, knowing what he wanted her to do.

She slipped her hand between them.

“Yes,” Oliver whispered, nodding, kissing her again. “Yes… Felicity…”

Her fingers found her clit, slick with her wetness, so sensitive and swollen from his thickness filling her; when she grazed her fingers over it, she mewled, her hips jerking against him.

Felicity rubbed herself as he thrust into her, pushing them both higher, their kisses growing alacrity.

A hot burn skated over her nerves, coiling at her center, and she rubbed faster, her nails digging into his shoulder, her mouth growing slack against his as she felt that blessed release building…

“Oh… oh…!”

She rubbed her clit and he thrust into her with reckless abandon, his frantic moans pushing her higher, until…

”Oliver!”

She felt her release peak, felt that blissful surge of desire as her hand moved without rhythm, going faster, rubbing herself in short, hard circles, echoing his thrusts just… _right…_

“Oh god!”

Felicitycame with a short, hot burst erupting inside her and her back arched, her lips falling open in a sharp cry against his mouth.

He wasn’t far behind her.

Oliver gripped her tighter, leaning her back over the counter, his hips slapping against hers, his fingers digging into her painfully before he erupted, coming with a loud groan of her name, his pelvis welding to hers as he spilled into her pulsating channel.

He cradled her against his chest, his quiet cries slowly dissolving into moaned gasps as they both fought for breath, holding each other as tightly as they could. As he came down, his shudders slowly dissipating, Felicity’s fingers danced over the back of his neck, playing with the fine hairs there as his lips brushed over hers.

Without a word, Oliver slowly pulled out of her, making her whimper at the loss. 

He leaned into her as he tucked himself back into his pants and then he lifted her off the counter, setting her on back on shaky legs. He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, hugging her close and Felicity clung to him, inhaling his scent, her eyes growing heavy with a bone-deep satisfaction that made her limbs leaden.

With his arm still wrapped around her, Oliver turned back to the stone and grabbed the forks he’d already had set out. He snatched the potholder hanging on the wall before picking up the pan.

He urged her towards the stairs, taking the food up with them.

They finished all of it together, in bed, before they fell asleep, curled around each other. 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/131829794359/im-sure-youre-busy-and-i-know-its-not-the)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	34. Pants on Everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in Season 4. Prompt - starlightafterastorm: Omg Bre. Did you ever watch Smallville. One of the lines randomly popped into my head today and i imagined Thea saying it to Oliver and Felicity and I can't stop laughing so I'd just like to share it. Imagine Thea coming over for a visit to Oliver and Felicity's new place and letting herself in very hesitantly "Ollie? Felicity? Are you home? You know what Thea likes to see when she comes to visit right? Pants. Pants on everyone."

Thea paused outside the front door, craning her head, key poised at the lock. She concentrated on the silence coming from inside the loft, trying to hear anything that might be _anything_.

It’d taken only once for her to _not_  barge into the loft - it had been her place… well, technically it still _was_  her place, and she’d left some stuff there, stuff she suddenly _needed_ once Oliver and Felicity took over. She’d walked in, key and all, not even thinking that the space was now occupied by two people who’d only been together, technically, for a few months. And if there was ever a couple that was destined to stay in their honeymoon phase for way longer than normal, it was them.

She hadn’t been looking for them, but it was  hard to miss them, because Oliver - a very, _very naked_  Oliver - had Felicity - also very naked, incredibly naked - pushed up against a pillar, his hips… _doing things_.

A sharp scream had escaped Thea before she could stop it and she’d dropped her keys, hands flying to cover her face as she’d backed up wildly, tripping over things blindly, babbling, “You guys need to hang a sock on the door or something!” mixed in with rapid apologies and a really gross thought of,  _‘Wow, he’s really strong,’_ before she’s squashed _that_  line of thinking because _ew._

Felicity had yelped and Oliver had yelled, “What the hell are you doing, Thea?” followed quickly by _sounds_ , sounds she never wanted to ever hear associated with her brother, and Thea’d shot back with, “Entering my loft!” to which he’d retorted with, “You don’t live here anymore!”

He had a point.

So, she’d knocked the next time… and when nobody answered, she’d used her key again. _Very tentatively._  They hadn’t been in the living room, and she’d literally sighed with relief before she’d walked towards the kitchen… only to see them out on the balcony, Felicity straddling Oliver in one of the chairs, _hips moving in a very specific way_ , and the first thing out of Thea’s mouth had been, “Oh my god, _you guys are in public!”_

Felicity’s response? “At least I was wearing a shirt, it’s not like anyone could _tell._ Right?”

“Me,” Thea had replied. “I could tell, which means all of Star City knew what you two were doing, and hey, Ollie, since you’re, you know, _running for Mayor_ , you might want to keep the frisky business inside from now on. Little tip for you there.”  


The only good thing about all of it was how red Oliver’s face stayed for a solid hour.

They were two experiences she never wanted to have again. Ever.

So… she tried to hear things.

Nothing.

Thea slid her key in with extra noise, rattling her keys as she unlocked the door, yanking them out with a bang on the door to alert them to her presence. 

She opened the door a crack and yelled. “Ollie? Felicity? Are you home?”

Thea was supposed to come over for dinner in about an hour and she was early. An hour was a long time for these two idiots.

No response.

Thea stuck her head in, slowly stepping in, raising her voice. “You know what Thea likes to see when she comes to visit, right? Pants. Pants on everyone.”

She caught Oliver coming out of the kitchen just as she shut the door behind her and 

“Pants!” Thea shouted, her hand flying to cover her eyes, her other rising to stop him in his tracks.

Oliver just sighed.

Felicity stuck her head around him. “Lots of pants going around in here, Thea, come on in! Or, rather a skirt in my case, but still, coverage. Lots of coverage. Unless you count when I bent over earlier and…”  


“Trust me, Felicity,” Thea interrupted. “That’s a story I _so_ don’t need to hear.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/131973222534/omg-bre-did-you-ever-watch-smallville-one-of-the)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	35. Good Morning! (4x06 spec)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity get a surprise guest.

Felicity hummed into the water, reveling in the warmth. It’d been a long week. She’d been spending so much time trying to figure out where Ray’s signal was coming from, where he was - she was still reeling from the fact that he was _alive_ , that he was out there somewhere, trying to reach her for help - as well as being the CEO for a Fortune 500 company on top of her night job with Team Arrow.  


And all that on top of the news that Oliver had been talking to her mother - _talking to her mother_ \- and one, not telling her about it, two, finding out that they’d been sending each other _emoji’s_ , and three, that Donna Smoak was arriving in Star City today.

“Ugh,” Felicity groaned, not moving.

Even the telltale sound of Oliver coming into the bathroom, of him letting his boxers slide down to the floor, of the shower curtain being pulled back and her boyfriend stepping in with her, none of it made her move.

Despite herself, Felicity sighed in contentment when Oliver wrapped his arms around her from behind, his body still deliciously warm from bed, only growing warmer in the heat of the shower.

“Morning,” he mumbled, his voice gruff as he pushed his face into her neck, his stubble scratching along the delicate skin under her ear, getting caught in her hair.

She shivered, leaning back into him, biting her lip when she felt him hardening against her backside.

“Mm, I’m still annoyed with you,” Felicity said, wrapping her arms around his, running her nails along the fine hair on his arms.

He just grunted, still half-asleep, pulling her in closer, pushing his face into her hair. One hand dropped while the other moved up, cupping her breast, the other finding her hip. He pulled her back against him as he thrust forward, letting her feel just how awake certain parts of his body were.

Felicity gasped, digging her nails into his muscles, whispering, “You just _think_ you’re getting shower sex, mister.”

Oliver made a noise, both of them knowing they were definitely, _definitely_ getting shower sex that morning.

Still.

“You think you can just walk in here and manhandle me after telling me you’ve been talking to my mother for months and…”

Oliver’s hand slid up the column of her neck, grabbing her jaw. Before she could get the rest of the words out, Oliver twisted her head, his lips covering hers.

Felicity instantly melted against him, the little faux fight she had in her disappearing in the blink of an eye as Oliver slid his tongue along the seam of her lips, begging entrance, and she gave it, opening up for him.

They moaned together, the lazy kiss slowly growing more passionate, more heated as Oliver slowly spun her in his embrace, kissing her with an early-morning ferocity that had a streak of need lighting through her.

They didn’t need words, they didn’t need to take a second, they just moved, knowing exactly what to do. Oliver pushed her up against the wall as Felicity wrapped her arms around his neck, using him as leverage to lift herself closer, to bring her leg up around him.

Oliver’s hand slid under her knee, spreading her, letting his hardness slip against her wet heat.

Felicity whimpered, arching her back to get closer to him, delighting in the little shiver he gave her when her hard nipples scraped over his chest.

And then she heard a bang.

Oliver heard it as well and he instantly stiffened, pulling back with a frown, cocking his head. His hearing was absolutely _ridiculous_ , and they both knew he’d hear more than her… still, Felicity held her breath, waiting to hear more.

Neither of them moved, Oliver still pressed flush against her, anchoring her to wall, his hand still under her knee, his erection still pressed deliciously between her legs. A quick surge of desire sliced through her and her hips moved against him of their own volition.

Oliver’s eyes fluttered for a second at the sensation, and he shot her a sleepy glare that told her to stay still.

Maybe it was just a…

Another bang and then the sound of something rolling before all Felicity heard was water.

That was definitely a bang - was someone in the loft? Was someone throwing something at a window, or was…

“Oh no,” Oliver suddenly whispered, his eyes closing as he fell forward, burying his face in her neck.

“What?” Felicity asked, cupping the back of his neck, pushing her fingers into his hair. “Did you leave something on, or…”

And then the bathroom door flew open.

“Good morning!”

Felicity froze.

No.

Oh no, no, no…

“Mom?” Felicity asked in horror.

She was dreaming. Surely she was dreaming, because this… no, this wasn’t a dream, this was a nightmare. A very, very _real_ nightmare, but not real.

Right?

_Right?_

Oliver pulled back, looking so incredibly _awake_ and _contrite_ that Felicity’s jaw _dropped._

“Are you freaking kidding me?” she hissed and he winced, looking apologetic and slightly horrified that they were both very naked in the shower and her mother was _right out there_.

_Oh god._

“Yeah!” Donna Smoak said, the sound of her heels clicking on the bathroom tile sounded and Oliver instantly dropped her like she was made of fire. “My flight was coming in early and Oliver said you’d still be home and I wanted to surprise you… oh, wait, is that…”

“Mom, please get out,” Felicity said, shoving Oliver out of the way, diving for the shower curtain. She poked her head out to find Donna waiting for her like she was going to open the curtain herself. “Mom!”

“Hi, baby girl!” Donna said, cupping her face, pressing her lips to her forehead. “I’ve missed you.”

“Mom, I’ve missed you too, and that really doesn’t mean you or Oliver are off the hook about this oh so wonderful _surprise_ , but please get out, now,” Felicity said.

Donna stepped back, her eyes narrowing before understanding lit them up.

“Oh… Oh! Is…” She raised her eyebrows, pointing at the curtain.

Felicity’s mortification shot through the roof, a blush violently skating up her face.

“Yes,” she said in answer to her unspoken question, hoping that would be it…

“Hi, Oliver!”

_Oh god._

“Hi, Donna,” Oliver replied, sounding like he was in so much trouble, as well he should because _he was in so much trouble_. “How was your flight?”

“Let’s talk about that another time, shall we?” Felicity said, nodding rapidly to her mother. “Mom, please leave, we’ll be out in a second.”

“Oh no, take your time, take your time,” Donna said with a smile that was way too gleeful. “I’ll go make some coffee.”

“Yeah… okay,” Felicity said, not waiting for her to leave the bathroom before she was turning back to Oliver. His hands were up, his mouth open with a ready explanation, but Felicity cut him off, smacking his shoulder. “Are you _freaking_ kidding me?”

“I’m sorry,” Oliver said, and in the next breath a little giggle came out.

“Oliver, it’s not funny!”

He laughed, trying to wrap his arms around her but she dodged him, trying to shut the shower off. “I’m sorry, Felicity, I didn’t…”

“I really honestly thought I’d be the one walking in on my mother in the shower with someone, not me!” she groused, trying to reach around him but he stopped. “Oliver!”

“Felicity, hang on, hang on,” Oliver said, hauling her into his arms. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips before she could move and her response was to glare at him. “I’m sorry. She was supposed to be here later, I swear. She’s early.”

“We’re really gonna have to talk about these Donna Smoak surprises you keep shoving on me, you know that right?”

“Yes,” Oliver said, nodding, giving her another kiss, and another, until she was softening against him. “I am sorry.”

“Mmhmm, yeah, I know,” Felicity hummed, kissing him back before stepping out of his arms. “You can put away the puppy dog eyes, Oliver, I’m not going to use my loud voice right this second… But…” She pointed at his erection with a, “Good luck with that,” before she yanked the curtain open and stepped out, pulling it shut behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/133006689794/good-morning-olicity-4x06-spec)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and mu


	36. What's Wrong (4x06 spec)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity argue.

The sound of Donna’s heels was the only thing echoing through the loft as she discreetly grabbed her jacket and bag, peeking back at them where they still stood in the dining room. She made a face before opening the door and closing it as quietly as she could behind her.

Oliver stared at Felicity.

Felicity stared at the table.

Her jaw was tight, her lips set in an angry line.

“Felicity…”  


“Honestly, Oliver, even looking at you right now is making me want to take this fork and throw it at your head,” Felicity said, looking at him with raised eyebrows. “Really, _really_ hard.”  


Oliver just stared at her, and she met his gaze evenly, the fire in her eyes making his gut churn. She’d never looked at him like that… alright, she _had_  looked at him like that before, but not with such vehement anger, with so much intent behind her anger. 

Oliver licked his lips, fighting the urge to look away as she _glared_  at him.

“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you, or…?” He trailed off as she narrowed her eyes incredulously before standing up abruptly, making the dishes on the table rattle. She picked up her empty plate and the silverware with harsh, jerky movements and moved to the kitchen, making a wide berth around him. “Felicity, talk to me.”

“My _mother_ , Oliver,” Felicity said, dropping the plate with a little too much force. “Not only did you call my mother, but you’ve been _texting_  her, behind my back, not telling me, and on top of that, _this_ ,” she said, waving at herself and then Oliver and then the dining table and then all around the loft. “I don’t have time for this, Oliver, I don’t have time to sit here and _entertain_  my mother because you wanted some weird bonding time _without even telling me_. Have you forgotten that Ray is out there somewhere, that I need to find him, that he’s depending on me?”

“I didn’t do this on purpose, Felicity,” Oliver replied and she scoffed. He narrowed his eyes, cocking his head. “You honestly think I did this on purpose, that I called your mother, that I asked her to come out here to what, sabotage you finding Ray? I want to find him just as badly as you do.”  


“I really, _really_  doubt that,” Felicity said.  


“Okay, stop, is this about your mother or is this about Ray?”  


“You tell me.”  


“There’s nothing to tell, Felicity,” Oliver said. “I thought I was doing a good thing here! Your mom wanted to see you and she said you weren’t returning her calls…”  


“For a _reason_ , Oliver!”  


“A reason you aren’t telling me! I can’t read your mind.”

“Oh, so I need to be more open, is that what you’re saying? But you can talk to my mother behind my back and that’s okay?”  


“Why are you acting like this?” Oliver asked and she let out an aggravated growl, grabbing the unused plate and yanking the dishwasher open. I was trying to help.”  


“No, you were doing exactly what she does, you were meddling,” Felicity snapped and Oliver’s head jerked back like she’d slapped him.  


“Oh my… god,” he breathed, touching his temples. “What is wrong with you?”  


“What is wrong with _me_?” Felicity repeated. “My boyfriend is what is wrong with me, my boyfriend talking to my mother behind my back is what is wrong with me, and you making me sit here, entertaining her while you’re out doing Arrow stuff, is what is wrong with me. It’s like you don’t care that I want to find Ray, that Ray needs my help.”  


“That is _not_  it, and you know it,” Oliver said, anger starting to color his words. “I don’t know what the hell is the matter with you right now, but yelling at me about something I don’t even know I did isn’t going to help!”  


“No, you’re right,” Felicity said, slamming the dishwasher shut. “It’s not. What will help…” 

She left the kitchen, heading for the front door, and Oliver closed his eyes in exasperation, immediately following her with a frustrated, “Felicity…”  


“No, you don’t get to ‘Felicity’ me, Oliver,” she said as she grabbed her jacket, pulling it on, nearly tearing a sleeve in her rush. She grabbed her keys and purse before looking back at him. “I’m going to Palmer Tech, because I need to find Ray. Because he’s out there, he’s lost, he could be hurt… I don’t even know, but what I do know is he needs help, and sitting here doing _nothing_  isn’t helping.”

“Felicity, don’t go,” Oliver said, but his words bounced right off her.  


The look she gave him simultaneously made his blood run cold just as it stoked the fire building in his gut that she was leaving, that she wasn’t talking to him, that she was making this about so much more than it was.

“Damn it, Felicity,” Oliver snapped before he could stop himself. “We’re not done here!”  


“Actually yeah, we are.” She yanked the door open. “Stay here and play entertainer with your new best pal.”

And without another word she left, letting the door slam shut behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/133018510759/whats-wrong-olicity-4x06-spec)
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	37. Found Ourselves (4x06 missing scene)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity make up. (Partly inspired by [this ask](http://theirhappystory.tumblr.com/post/133052274525/flashbacks-to-all-the-fics-where-she-gets-herself) via @theirhappystory)

  
  
[Source](http://wouldyousingalong.tumblr.com/post/133046361872)   


_“It’s kind of amazing that we’ve made it this far.”_

_“We’re gonna be fine.”_

_“How can you be so sure?”_

_“Because we found ourselves in each other.”_

Felicity hummed softly, their lips never parting as she crawled over him, straddling his lap. Her sigh turned into a needy whine as he wound his arms around her, pulling himself up just enough to wrap around her as she pushed her legs down, pressing herself against his hard body as he pulled her flush against his body.

They sighed at the same time, like they were coming home, like they’d been away for months instead of just days, just hours… it’d been that long, but so much longer.

It was something new. She felt a new tenderness in the way he held her, the way she touched him with a new warmth, the way their kisses lingered, their lips brushing against each other like they were discovering new terrain all over again, how they breathed each other in.

It was…

_Love._

_Acceptance._

It was _deeper_. 

When Oliver’s hand cupped the back of her neck, strands of her hair getting tangling in his fingers, she felt him deep inside, in a way she’d never felt before, satisfying something that hadn’t been there before.

_Fulfilled._

She’d fallen off track, they both had, and it would’ve been so easy to say it wasn’t going to work, it was too much, it was too intense, it wasn’t what she thought love was supposed to be…

But she’d been wrong.

This _was_ love; this was the love she’d been running away from, the love they’d both dived into without a single reservation over the summer. The love that took over everything, encapsulated every inch of her, _consuming_ , but it didn’t take everything until there was nothing left, not like she’d started thinking, not like she’d started _feeling_. 

No, it burned up everything inside her, but it left new land in its wake, scorching her from the inside out, leaving something new behind.

Not leaving…

 _Uncovering_.

 _Revealing_.

He was everywhere, surrounding her, taking over, becoming her everything in that moment, and she gave herself over to all of it.

She gave herself to _him_ , and he did the same to her.

“Felicity,” Oliver whispered, the gentle breathless sound disappearing in another kiss as he moaned deep in his chest, pulling her in even closer as he lifted his head, deepening the kiss. 

Felicity’s moan matched his where she hovered over him, shifting her hips to press her heat against him and Oliver’s hand dropped down her back, cupping her ass. His fingers gripped her tightly, pushing her hips down as he tightened his core, arching his back, giving her the perfect surface to rub against just… _right._

A streak of heat shot through her, making her fingers tingle with an urgency she’d never felt before.

“Ooh… Oliver…”

She needed to _feel_ him, needed to feel him all over her, inside her, _with her_. 

Felicity gasped, rocking her hips against him, a low burn building deep in her center. She made a tight fist in the pillow right next to his head, her other hand finding his cheek, her thumb dragging along his jawline, nudging him to angle even more, to deepen the kiss…

 _More_.

Oliver followed her lead, his tongue caressing hers as he pushed her hips down against him again, sending another streak of pleasure through her. 

Felicity choked out a whimper, pushing closer in tiny thrusts. Another whimper escaped her, and another, and Oliver swallowed every little sound she made as he helped, pushing her down again, pushing her even closer, straining up against her, keeping his stomach taut and hard and so, so good as she rubbed…

It didn’t matter that they were both still clothed, that there were physical barriers between them, literally separating them. Felicity didn’t feel her jeans, or his sweats against her feet, or his fingers slipping under the collar of her sweater.

They were naked, more naked than they ever had been before, and Felicity _reveled_ in it. 

A rush of desire soaked through her panties, making them slick, making the hard seam of her jeans slide right against her swollen flesh as she thrust down against his abdomen. A white hot pleasure slowly unfurled in her core, slicing through her with a painful accuracy that had her gasping against him, gasping for more, for so much more, for him, for them, for everything.

“Oliver,” Felicity whined, pulling back, pressing her forehead against his, gripping his face as she moved against him, their bodies as close as humanly possible, his hand gripping her, moving with her little thrusts, applying more pressure. “Oh god…”

“Look at me, Felicity,” Oliver breathed, his hand on her neck gripping her tightly, urging her back so he could see her.

Oh god, he felt so good, so good everywhere, _he was everywhere_ …

The pleasure gained momentum, building deep inside her, spreading through her like lava, burning through her veins and nerves, racing through her body, making her fingers and toes tingle with the intensity of the orgasm.

“Oliver, I’m… I…”

“Look at me,” he whispered, his hand coming up to cup her face, pushing her hair out of the way, and she whimpered. “Felicity.”

Felicity’s eyes flew open, locking on his, and her pleasure instantly doubled, making her cry out as they worked together, pushing her higher and higher. 

They never looked away from each other, not for one second, as she rubbed against him and he pushed her down, moving underneath her, chasing her release right alongside her.

Oliver watched her, and she watched him, and as her pleasure peaked…

“Oh… god, oh god… !”

Her release slammed into her, sucking the air out of her lungs as she rubbed against him with mindless abandon, her eyes never leaving his, giving him _everything_ as she fell apart on top of him, sucking in a quick breathless cry as her orgasm rocketed through her, sending her flying.

They rocked against each other, riding the aftershocks together until she gave him one last shudder, collapsing over him.

Oliver wrapped his arms around her again, nuzzling his face against hers. Felicity lazily cupped his jaw, moving so her glasses slid off, leaving them to land with a soft plop on the bed next to them. She pressed her cheek to his, kissing his stubble, peppering more kisses along his delicate skin until her lips found his.

They didn’t speak.

They didn’t have to.

Oliver rolled them over slowly, taking his time. Felicity gasped and moaned underneath him as he dragged his lips down her throat, over her collarbone, his fingers already pushing up underneath her sweater, warm fingers sending goosebumps dancing over her stomach. 

He pulled it up, tugging it off over her head, before he found the button on her jeans. 

Oliver sat up just enough to pull them off, his eyes never leaving hers as her panties followed a second later, before he shoved his sweats down.

Felicity opened herself for him, spreading her legs, holding her arms out, for him.

Oliver sank into her embrace, and she wrapped herself around just as he had, holding him as closely as she could, their lips touching in the softest of kisses before he angled his hips back, the head of his erection slipping through her wet heat. He found her entrance and he slowly - _slowly_ \- pressed himself into her.

He filled her completely, pushing himself against her until there was nothing but them, and then he pulled out, thrusting back into her with the same tender care.

Oliver made love to her, his lips covering hers with drugging kisses that left her reeling. She wrapped herself around him, fingers running over his scars and heated skin, pushing her hand into his hair, returning his kisses with equal ardor.

But she needed… _more._

“Oliver,” Felicity moaned, pulling back just enough to push on his shoulder a little, just enough to tell him…

He knew exactly what she was asking. 

Oliver took a moment to thrust into her as deeply as he could, making her choke out his name again before he gathered her up and rolled, leaving her on top of him, but he didn’t stay there. Oliver instantly sat up, forcing him to slide even deeper into her as she settled in his lap.

Felicity wrapped her legs around his waist, his arms coming around her back, pulling her against his chest as she cradled him, her lips grazing his.

“I love you,” Felicity whispered, kissing him again - softly, lovingly - before she lifted herself up and thrust down. “I love you, Oliver.”

“I love you,” he gasped, wrapping his arm around her waist, the other delving into her hair as he whispered, “I love you so much.”

“I love you…”

They made love. 

It was reaffirmation as much as it was confirmation, and as Felicity came again, her mouth falling open in a wild gasp, Oliver moaned underneath her, matching her gentle thrusts until he spilled into her, shuddering, leaning against her, letting her hold him, letting carry him as they found bliss together.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/133058273069/found-ourselves-olicity-4x06-explicit)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	38. Pep Talk (4x07 spec)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity's pep talk to Oliver.

“… you didn’t decide to run for Mayor to take down Darhk. You did it to give this city something that the Green Arrow can’t give them.”  


The surge of love that filled Oliver’s chest took his breath away as she leaned over him, gripping his shoulders, that beautiful crinkle appearing between her eyes, the one she got when she really, truly _believed_  what she was saying and she _needed_  him to believe it too.  


“Hope…”  


Like the hope she inspired in him? The hope for them, for their future, for the lives they had ahead of them, the world they were building together, both as Oliver and Felicity but also as Oliver Queen, Mayor, and Felicity Smoak, CEO of Palmer Tech? As the Green Arrow, and her as his home, his foundation, his sanctuary?

It was the kind of hope he wanted to infuse back into Star City.

“Inspiration…”  


Like the joy and light and life she inspired in him? The new meaning she gave to his life, the new desire to get up and face each day, knowing he had her by his side, his partner, his best friend, his love?

He wanted to give the people in his city that inspiration back. He wanted to inspire them to stand up, to unite, to remember what they used to be, what they could be again, that they didn’t have to live in darkness anymore. 

That they deserved to live in the light again.

“Don’t lose sight of that.”  


 _Never_ , he wanted to respond. _Not ever, not when I have you here to help guide me, to take my hand and put me back on the right path. To be the guiding light that always brings me home._

“Not even for John.”

Her words sliced through his chest.

Oliver took a slow, steady breath.

She was right. 

He _wanted_ to tell her he could do both, he could be there for the city _and_  for Diggle, that he could infiltrate Darhk’s organization and run the city and be the Green Arrow, and… and… and…

And her words had a whole new meaning. 

She was asking him to remember that he had hopes too, that he had wishes he wanted to see come to fruition, and that he’d spent so much time, for as long as he could remember, sacrificing those hopes and wishes. They were sacrifices he’d do all over again, the same exact way, every single time, but…

A tiny smile tugged at his lips as he looked up at her.

Felicity cocked her head, her eyes softening at whatever she saw in his, her brow smoothing out again when she saw he was hearing her.

His smile slowly grew.

A thousand words were on the tip of his tongue - _thank you, I know, there are other ways, we can do this, what about that, we can make other ways…_

“I love you.”

Felicity gave him a breathy grin, shaking her head slightly as she murmured, “Darn right you do,” before leaning forward, pressing her lips to his forehead. 

Oliver sighed, closing his eyes as he leaned into her, his hands coming up to cradle her elbows, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles along her arms.

She pulled back and Oliver turned his face up for a proper kiss.

“Mm,” Felicity hummed against his lips. “Now, how about we work on that speech, Mr. Mayoral Candidate?”

“Good idea,” Oliver said, reaching for her hips. He tugged her forward, and she chuckled, biting her lower lip as she let him guide her so she was straddling him in the chair. “I’ll just… practice…” Felicity wound her arms around his neck, arching her body against him and he grinned up at her. “Right here.”  


Felicity snorted and Oliver grinned before kissing her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/133449617669/pep-talk-olicity-4x07-spec)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	39. May I Cut In? (4x07 spec)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous: Prompt: (4x07) Oliver witnesses Dhark talking to Felicity at his charity gala

The second he saw them, his heart stopped 

It was irrational, some part of him knew that, because to the outside world, there was no reason why Damien Darhk wouldn’t be talking to Felicity Smoak, CEO of Palmer Tech. To the outside world, he was just another concerned citizen of Star City, someone who wanted to help and who had the means to, which was why he’d been making his way around the charity gala like a swarm of locusts in human form, touching anything and everything, taking over, leaving his mark on everyone he saw, everyone he touched.

Marring them, leaving blemishes, ugly, infested blemishes that were like open wounds people couldn’t see or feel. 

But they were there.

And now he was talking to Felicity, reaching out to her, a smile on his face that made Oliver’s stomach drop as he touched her shoulder, cocking his head as he spoke.

Oliver could tell Felicity tried not to stiffen, to not give herself away, but they both knew what his touch could do, what he was capable of, and even though it was so minute, so tiny and infinitesimal, Oliver saw it.

And so did Darhk.

He knew about Palmer, he knew about Felicity and that Ray contacted her…

White noise filled Oliver’s ears as he watched them, his feet glued to the floor as the people around him continued to talk, not noticing that every single inch of him was tuned in to the opposite side of the room, to where he watched Darhk’s lips forming the words,  _‘I’d be honored to have this dance, Ms. Smoak.’_

And Felicity,  _‘Oh, I’m not much of a dancer, you don’t want me out there if you cherish your toes.’_

Darhk laughed at that, and so did she. 

Oliver knew that sound intimately - she was nervous, she couldn’t help it, although she was doing a hell of a job covering it up. Nobody was the wiser, and as someone passed her, reaching out to touch Felicity’s arm with a comment, she played right along with it, like nothing was wrong.

Like they didn’t know that Darhk was a murderer.

That he’d brainwashed Andy.

That he was systematically destroying Star City.

That he just had to _touch_  someone, and their life force was sucked out of them.

Oliver was moving before he could tell himself to, not bothering to apologize to whoever he was talking to, not feeling their eyes on his back as he made his way across the room. He didn’t feel people’s touch grazing his arms, didn’t hear the congratulations, or the questions, or _anything_.

He only had eyes for Felicity. He only had eyes for where Darhk was stepping into her space, gently cupping her elbow, urging her out to the dance floor.

Oliver watched Felicity bite her bottom before her face transformed into a beautifully open smile as she nodded, and then they were out on the floor, Felicity putting her hand in Darhk’s, the man’s eyes zeroed in on her in a way that made Oliver’s skin crawl.

They got in maybe three steps before Oliver was there.

“May I cut in?” he asked, his hand finding Darhk’s arm. He barely kept himself from gripping him as hard as he could, from wrenching his hand away from Felicity, from tossing him across the room. Instead, Oliver smiled, slipping his arm around Felicity’s waist, pulling her into his side. He felt her quick inhale, the way she shuffled closer to him as he said, “I didn’t mean to interrupt, I just haven’t had much time with her tonight.”  


“Oh no, by all means,” Darhk replied, his eyes staying on Oliver for a moment - Oliver had to fight the urge to look away, and that was _unsettling_. 

Darhk’s eyes narrowed in amusement, like he knew what Oliver was feeling.

The other man finally looked back to Felicity and he bowed his head. 

He was still holding her hand. 

“It was lovely to meet you, Ms. Smoak.”  


“The pleasure was mine,” Felicity replied, grinning. 

It didn’t reach her eyes.  


Darhk lingered for a moment, a long moment, a moment that lasted an eternity, his eyes never leaving Felicity’s before his entire demeanor suddenly shifted, his face lighting up with a smile.

“I’ll leave you two to your dance,” he said, stepping away, letting Felicity’s hand drop. 

Oliver caught up, pulling her closer as he spun, putting himself between her and Darhk before either of them could blink.  


He wrapped his arms around her, his hands spanning her back, dipping his head to speak into her ear. “Are you alright?”  


“I’m fine, Oliver, I wasn’t… He was just… creepy. Like really creepy, like how-can-nobody-see-the-major-creepy-vibes-coming-off-him kind of creepy.”  


Oliver smiled despite himself, shaking his head, pressing a soft kiss to the shell of her ear, instantly feeling better as she spoke. Just hearing her voice was a balm in and of itself, soothing.

She was alright.

He gripped her hand tighter, trying to erase Darhk’s touch.

“He’s a bad man, Oliver,” Felicity whispered after a moment, gripping him tighter. “I felt it. I felt… as ridiculous as this sounds, I felt the darkness in him, and it both gave a whole new meaning to his name, and it…”  


She paused, and Oliver’s heart stopped for a second as he felt her move closer, felt her shift her shoulders, like she was trying to get something off her skin that wasn’t there.

But it was. They could both feel it and Oliver swept his hand up her back and over her shoulders.

“It scared me,” she finished.  


Oliver didn’t reply. 

He just held her closer, vowing to himself that he’d never let that man near her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/133472214649/prompt-4x07-oliver-witnesses-dhark-talking-to)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	40. Long Night (4x07 missing scene)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when Oliver and Felicity get home after the gala.

Felicity let her head fall back as she reached the top of the stairs, groaning, letting her body finally relax.

It’d been a long night, _such a long night_ , with the schmoozing and the campaigning and the charity-ing… or whatever.

She was tired, her feet were tired, her shaking hand was tired.

Her _face_ was tired.

And all of that didn’t even include Damien Darhk appearing with a thinly veiled threat against her boyfriend.

_What an awesome night._

Oliver was right behind her, his hand on her lower back, guiding her as much as he was supporting her.

He chuckled at the sounds she was making as he directed her into the bedroom, his other hand coming up to cover her shoulder. He dug his thumb into her muscle and she moaned, stopping short.

“That feels amazing,” she whispered as Oliver stepped up behind her, wrapping his other arm around her waist, pulling her back against his chest as he increased the pressure. Felicity moaned louder, sagging back against him and she felt him smiling where he had his face pressed into her hair. “That was a long night.”

“A very long night,” Oliver agreed, urging her forward again.

She moved - with a tiny sound of protest - into their bedroom. She flung her arm out to catch the light switch but she missed it, and he didn’t stop to turn it on, urging her forward.

The room was still dark as he walked them in, lit only by the city lights outside their window.

Felicity leaned into him, closing her eyes as he matched her steps, knowing he’d take her right where she needed to be. She flung her clutch out when she thought they were at the bed and it landed with a soft thud on the mattress.

Oliver stopped and she hummed, moving to lean forward to take her shoes off but he gripped her tighter, not letting her go. Felicity bit her lip, a smile lighting her face as she did as he silently requested, leaning back into him, letting him hold her. He kept his arm wrapped around her, his hand still massaging her shoulder, his face pressed to her hair.

He tightened his grip on her, shifting so he could press his lips to the sensitive skin right behind her ear.

Felicity sighed, a little shiver dancing down her spine as she arched her neck, giving him more access. He laid a series of soft kisses down the side of her throat, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake, making her gasp. Felicity let her head fall back, giving him access to everything. His tongue darted out to taste her, and it sent a streak of need straight for her core, a needy heat igniting deep in the pit of her stomach as he licked and nipped his way down her neck.

“Oliver,” she whispered, barely audible, and he responded by sliding his hand forward, his fingers slipping under her dress.

She moaned, her hands finding the arm he had wrapped around her waist, and he skipped over the collar of her dress so his lips landed on her shoulder just as his entire hand slipped inside her dress.

“Oh… god,” she whispered.

He cupped her breast through the thin strapless bra she had plastered on, his palm skating over her hardening nipple in a way that made her shudder against him, another moan slipping past her lips before her cupped her breast in a tight grip. Felicity groaned, a rush of wetness dampening her panties, her mind instantly filling in what he was going to do next, what he was going to touch next, how he was going to do it and where…

Oliver moved back to her neck, his breathing growing harsher with need as he pulled her tighter against him, letting her feel his desire for her. His lips found her pulse point, his tongue swirling around the spot they both knew made her knees buckle before he sucked, his teeth grazing over it.

Heat swept up over Felicity, a wild flush crawling along her skin, and she choked out a frantic, “Oh god,” before spinning in his arms, forcing him to let her go long enough for her to grab his face, her lips crashing against his.

The added height of her heels put her so much closer to him and they moaned at the same time, the sounds intermingling as he wrapped his arm back around her waist and moved her backwards, his other hand flying out to find the…

Oliver’s hand hit the small armoire between the two windows with a loud bang and he grunted, making Felicity giggle against his lips, something that made him giggle slightly as he turned them away before she crashed into it herself.

His fingers grazed over glass panes, and in the next second, Oliver let out a tiny moan before pushing her up against the picture window. The chilled panes were like ice against her heated skin and Felicity pulled away from him with a sharp gasp, her back arching to get away from it.

“Sorry,” Oliver whispered, pulling back but Felicity shook her head with a soft, “No, don’t,” pulling his face back down to hers.

Felicity caught the grin on his face, caught the way his eyes sparkled, the way they always did when he looked at her, when she did something that made his amazement of her in his eyes grow, and she returned it, tipping her head back for more.

His lips covered hers again, and Felicity sighed against him, no longer feeling the cold window or her tired feet or _anything_ but him.

Oliver dipped down slightly, pushing himself up against her, his hand sliding down her hip and to her thigh, down far enough that he found the slit in her dress, the one that’d made his eyes darken with appreciation earlier.

His fingers were hot against her skin and she whimpered, lifting her leg, meeting him halfway, his hand sliding into the crook of her knee as he pushed himself against her. The hard bulge in his pants pressed right where she needed it, where her body throbbed for it - for him - and he moaned loud enough for the both of them.

Felicity gripped the lapels of his jacket, deepening the kiss, her fingers slowly following the fine lines of the coat down until she found the buttons. She tugged on them, spreading the material open. Felicity touched him through his shirt. She felt the hitch in his breath, his abdomen tightening as she pushed her hands up along his broad chest, pushing his jacket off.

Oliver hitched her leg up, anchoring her on his hip before releasing her long enough to let the jacket fall, landing on the floor in a rumpled heap, before he was back on her, pushing her into the glass again, touching her everywhere he could as she found his suspenders.

God, she loved this man in suspenders.

Oliver chuckled, and she realized she must have said that out loud.

Good.

He needed to know.

“You needed to know,” she whispered against his lips, nodding, and he replied with a breathy, “Oh yeah?”

She shuddered at the desire-filled promise lacing those simple words.

Felicity wrapped her fingers around them, using them to pull him in closer.

“God, Felicity,” Oliver breathed, kissing her with more ferocity as he reached down and yanked her dress out of the way. He grabbed her other leg and pulled her off her feet, keeping her anchored against the window. Felicity wrapped her legs around him, his hands slipping down to grip her ass, hiking her higher, at the perfect height.

Felicity sunk down against him just as he thrust up against her.

She gasped his name, moaning softly, and he swallowed every little noise she made as he did it again, rotating his hips, pushing against her. Felicity whimpered, meeting his gentle thrusts with little ones all her own, holding onto his suspenders tighter as her pleasure slowly built, so gentle but _scorching_ at the same time.

Oliver broke away from with her with a desperate, “Oh god,” as he gripped her tighter, pulling her down with more force, increasing the delicate friction. He buried his face in her neck, leaving a wet kiss here and there as he gasped, moving against her with more urgency. “God, Felicity, I need…”

“Yes,” she whispered frantically, nodding, turning her face into his hair. She inhaled deeply, smelling his shampoo and the woodsy cologne he’d put on for the event, all of it mixed in with traces of her perfume and some of her fruity body wash. “Oliver…”

“My pants,” Oliver gasped, adjusting his grip on her. “I can’t…”

Felicity’s hands were already moving. She reached between them and found the button and zipper, nearly ripping the button from the seam in her haste before shoving the zipper down. The front of his pants were damp from her, from where he’d been rubbing, and it was erotic as hell, making her need for him overwhelming.

Oliver hissed with each brush of her fingers against him, his hips jerking with every little movement, seeking the delicious friction they’d just had.

“Felicity,” he whispered, pressing his face into her shoulder.

She pushed her hand into his pants, slipping under his boxers where she gripped him tight.

“Oh!” Oliver groaned, thrusting up into her hand as much as he could, his fingers digging into her ass as hard as he could as she slid her fingers down his length, her nails grazing against him teasingly.

He whined her name, holding her tighter…

Oliver suddenly hitched her higher, sliding her up the window, shoving one hand underneath to hold her up as he shoved his hand between them, his fingers sliding across her thigh in jerky motions, every inch of him pulled taut as he reached her panties. They were soaked through with her arousal, and she gasped as his fingers brushed over the front, sliding across her slick flesh, before he tugged the material out of the way.

“Felicity,” he groaned, thrusting against her hand again.

She shoved his pants out of the way, tugging him out, guiding him to her entrance. He slid through her wetness, and she moaned, her head falling back against the window with a heavy thud.

Oliver choked out her name again, abandoning her panties as she teased them both, sliding the head of his cock up to her clit as his hand slid back around her ass, holding her up.

“Felicity…”

She guided him into her, and Oliver thrust up, sliding her down along the glass to meet him at the same time, filling her completely.

Felicity cried out, wrapping herself around him.

Oliver pulled out and thrust back in, pushing her back against the glass with dull thuds that grew louder with each thrust, echoing his little cries and her breathy gasps.

She’d already been close, right there, the pleasure swamping her when he’d just been rubbing, it was now amplified, radiating through her, and Felicity moaned his name, over and over, mindlessly meeting him thrust for thrust. The white hot coil in the pit of her stomach tightening, growing hotter with each thrust, with each tiny vibration his movements made sliding across her clit.

“Yes,” Felicity whispered, gripping his suspenders, digging her nails into his back. “Yes, yes, Oliver… yes!”

Oliver’s thrusts grew harder, losing their rhythm as he shoved her into the glass.

She felt his heavy pants against her neck, his breathy whispers of her name, his desperate moans as he dug his fingers into her, holding her so tightly, so wonderfully…

“Oh god, oh god,” Oliver choked out, his hips moving wildly, shoving his face deeper against her neck, his stubble scraping across her sensitive skin, making her shudder. “Oh god… god, god… Felicity!”

Oliver shoved himself against her with one final thrust, his pelvis melding to hers as tightly as he could, rubbing right along her clit…

He came, shouting his pleasure against her as Felicity’s hips moved of their own accord, chasing her pleasure. She rubbed, her hips moving in tiny desperate circles, her body starting to shake as she felt it building, higher and higher, hotter…

“Oh…!”

Felicity came with a sharp cry, her back bowing, her head hitting the glass solidly as her own pleasure erupted deep inside her, rocketing through her thick waves of heat that left her skin tingling, tiny pinpricks dancing along the palms of her hands.

A moment passed, maybe two. Maybe more, she wasn’t sure until she felt Oliver moving slightly, felt him lifting her up, one hand sliding around her waist, the other sliding to the back of her ass, pushing her down closer, not wanting to leave her heat just yet as he pulled her away from the window and spun, moving gently towards the bed… but it was too much, and the second he reached their destination, he started slipping out of her.

Oliver grunted, shoving her in closer, nearly collapsing on the bed, narrowly missing crushing her.

The bed bounced with their combined weight and he didn’t waste a second, stretching over her, pushing himself back in as much as he could.

Felicity hummed, chuckling softly, making Oliver groan again.

She wanted to get up and change, wash the makeup off and get out of the beautiful dress that was probably more than stained now, but she didn’t want to move. She wanted to stay right where she was, right there with him, with him everywhere, surrounding her, filling her, with her wrapped around him, cradling him…

Felicity nuzzled her face against his temple, brushing her lips across his hairline.

“I love you.”

It was the perfect end to a long night.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/133517424779/long-night-olicity-4x07-explicit)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	41. Ferocity (post-4x09 spec)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - acheaptrickandcheesyoneline: That ferocity we saw in season 1... the out of control Oliver we haven't ever seen... Now picture that in the bedroom and with Felicity. You're welcome.

My first thought was, “How dare you, what did I ever do to you?” 

… and then my second thought was thinking about what happens after Oliver gets Felicity back (after 4x09, because kidnapping and violence and rage, it’s gonna happen) and how he’s so gentle and loving and needing to make love to her… but there’s also an almost violent need to just _feel_  her at the same time, to _know_  it’s her, that she’s alive and in his arms and his again, and she feels the same thing, this crazed _need_  under the surface that they don’t really understand or know what to do with, but it’s there… 

And what starts out so soft and gentle quickly escalates into something _more_  and suddenly clothes are being torn off - ripped down the seams, zippers torn apart - and he’s slamming her into a wall, knocking a picture down, rattling the rest as he lifts her up, gripping her so hard he’s bruising her. She’s gasping his name in a morbid litany, digging her nails into him so hard it nearly draws blood, but it’s not painful - it’s a _release,_ a release for both of them. 

Oliver’s need to be inside her - to feel her all around him, alive and _his_  again - is too much, and he can’t wait, neither of them can wait. He shoves her up against the wall, knocking down another picture, glass shattering across the floor as Felicity grips his face so tight it hurts, their kisses becoming ferocious, both taking, taking as much as they can from the other. But their desperation lacks any coordination and they end up sliding down the wall to the ground, knees crunching in the glass, slicing through skin like tissue paper. 

They don’t feel it, they don’t feel anything but each other, and that’s all that matters.

She’s alive, she’s back, he got her back, and he needs to _know_  that on a primal level, something deep inside him _aching_ for affirmation.

Felicity tries to twist them so she’s on top but the instant she’s out of his arms for more than a second, Oliver sees red. He grabs her back, hiking her into his arms again and slams her up against the wall, ignoring the broken glass under his knees as he holds her up, ripping her panties in his haste to get inside her, feeling her rushed hands breaking his zipper…

And then he’s inside her, filling her to the hilt, and her needy cry echoes through the loft.

It’s quick and hard, brutal and honest, the pain from his thrusts resonating through both of them as he shoves her into the wall, growling her name over and over into her neck, her hair sticking to his lips, her wet mouth against his temple, her frenzied pants filling him just as much as he fills her, over and over, over and over…

Felicity comes with a violent shout, her head shooting back, ramming into the wall as she cries out her pleasure, holding onto him as tightly as she can, her arms aching with the effort, a nail breaking where she’s gripping his neck. Her inner walls suck him in deeper and deeper, _harder_ , and Oliver’s quick to follow, coming with a pained cry that’s muffled in the crook of her throat as he spills into her, his hips slamming into her without rhythm, his pelvis slapping against hers harshly as he gives her everything he can, taking her in every way possible.

(Or something like that.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/133944593669/that-ferocity-we-saw-in-season-1-the-out-of)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	42. Mistletoe (S4 spec)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous: Some fluff to break up all this angst? "important otp christmas question: who has placed mistletoe in every room of the house to get in as many kisses as possible and who is exasperatedly questioning ‘this is the 5th timE TODAY WHERE IS ALL THIS MISTLETOE COMING FROM?’ before sighing and leaning in"

The sound of the flushing toilet and the faucet coming on barely penetrated her concentration. How she managed to get to the bathroom and pee in the first place was something she’d have to marvel at later, but for now…

Felicity’s mind was racing. 

She couldn’t figure out which part of the code wasn’t working and it was driving her absolutely bonkers. It was right in front of her face, right there, but it _wasn’t_  at the same time.

“Guh,” she mumbled under her breath, wiping her hands on the towel before absently grabbing some lotion, only seeing 1′s and 0′s racing through her brain. She felt like it was on the tip of her tongue, right there, but she couldn’t grasp it.

She wanted to grasp it. She wanted to grab it with a sharp, “Aha, I got you!” but it wasn’t exactly a tangible thing she could grab - she couldn’t just yank it out of thin air when she needed something physical to strangle.

Felicity opened the bathroom door, her hands slipping on the knob, and used her elbow to turn the light off, not even seeing the bedroom in front of her or anything really until she ran right into Oliver’s chest.

“Oh, hey,” Felicity said, looking up at him. And then she realized where she was - where _he_  was - and she cocked her head in amusement. “There are other bathrooms in the loft, Oliver.”  


Oliver huffed out a chuckle. “I know. I don’t have to go to the bathroom.”

“Then what…”  


His eyes slid up and she knew exactly what he was doing without even having to see it. She rolled her eyes at him with an exasperated, “Oh my god, the bathroom, Oliver, really?”

He laughed, crowding her against the doorjamb, not even bothering to answer her. Felicity couldn’t stop her own grin from crossing her lips at his dopey smile, shaking her head as he cupped her face, his thumbs caressing her cheeks lovingly as he tipped her face up to his. 

Oliver kissed her gently, a soft, loving kiss that had her melting against him. Felicity wrapped her arms around his waist, pushing herself up onto her toes to get closer, savoring it just as much as she did every single kiss since the Incident.

It was precious and loving, beautiful and perfect, something to cherish, somewhere they both wanted to linger, for as long as possible.

Felicity hummed, angling her head to deepen the kiss and he sighed - the happiest sigh she’d ever heard in her life - as he pulled her closer.

Oliver finally pulled away with a grin, one that matched hers. He nudged his nose against hers playfully before stepping back and Felicity bit her bottom lip, giving him a look, a look that promised many things involving the rumpled bed _right there_ … but first, the code.

Felicity gripped the lapels of his shirt and pulled him down for one more quick, chaste kiss before she moved to go back downstairs to where her tablet and her code problem waited for her.

The second she stepped through the bedroom door, Oliver was there again.

“What…?” Felicity started just as Oliver said, “Oh, hey, look at that.”  


Felicity looked at him before glancing up to find  _another freaking mistletoe._

“This is the _fifth_  time, Oliver, where is all this mistletoe coming from?” 

Oliver wrapped his arms around her, his chest vibrating with laughter as he pulled her closer, muffling her words with another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/134532079549/some-fluff-to-break-up-all-this-angst-important)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	43. Sexting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in Season 4. Prompt - Anonymous: Headcannon where Felicity is excellent at sexting but she can't dirty talk face to face with oliver. She stumbles over words and thinks its embarrassing and blushes all the time. And thats all he needs to get turned on.

**F:** Being in the office isn’t nearly as fun without you here  
 **O:** Why’s that?  
 **F:** It was easier to fantasize about you bending me over your desk with you here  
 **O:** …  
 **F:** I used to get so wet thinking about walking into your office and you asking me to come over to you. You’d pull me between your legs and put your hands on me, pushing my skirt up  
 **O:** And then what?  
 **F:** You would put your hand in my panties and feel how wet I was for you, you’d know it was for you, and you’d put your fingers inside me. You wouldn’t let me sit on your desk and you’d keep my legs pressed together as you fingered me, watching my face  
 **O:**    
 **F:**  You’d make me come right there and then you’d rip my panties off and push me over your desk, taking me from behind  
 **O:**    
 **F:**  I’m so wet right now, thinking about you  
 **O:**    
 **F:**  Sometimes I’d be on my knees under your desk, sucking you off  
 **O:**    
 **F:**  Did you know I picked my lipstick thinking about my lips wrapped around your cock?  
 **O:** Fuck Felicity  
 **F:** Are you hard  
 **O:** Yes  
 **F:** Are you thinking about my mouth on you, licking and sucking?  
 **O:**    
 **F:** I love when you put your hands in my hair, when you want me to touch myself when you’re in my mouth  
 **O:** Where are you?  
 **F:** Office. About to go into another meeting  
 **O:** Touch yourself  
 **F:**  Do it yourself. I want your mouth on my clit Oliver making me come until I can’t stand  
 **O:** Come home  
 **F:** Later

* * *

Oliver was waiting for her when she walked in the door. 

She’d had an emergency board meeting that Saturday morning - on _their_ day, what they’d agreed would always be their day where it was just them - and it’d lasted a lot longer than both of them had expected. He’d filled the time by catching up on campaign work and she’d filled the time by teasing the _hell_  out of him with texts… _the entire goddamn day_.

He was ready to explode.

“Oliver?” she called, the sound of her heels preceding her before she rounded the corner. She grinned when she spotted him. “Hi.”

“Hey,” he said, offering her a smile where he sat at the dining room table, campaign papers spread out all over the place - he honestly couldn’t remember what any of them said; he’d been staring at them unseeingly for the last hour, his mind on his girlfriend’s fantasies. 

Felicity set her purse and bag down, along with a few groceries he’d asked her to grab on her way home before she started unpacking them, putting the items away.

Oliver got up slowly, his eyes on her as she moved about the kitchen. She’d dressed for work in a tight black skirt with a long slit that showed ample amounts of her lush thigh when she stepped a certain way, and a semi-sheer lavender blouse that was making his mouth water because he knew what kind of bra hid under the camisole she had on.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the image she’d painted about him bending her over his desk, about his fingers buried deep inside her, about her _thinking_  about it at all. His pants only grew tighter the more he thought about her getting off on that, and then his mind spiraled into _acting out_ all those office fantasies…

But besides that, besides her sharing those things with him the way she did, his favorite thing about her sexting was how she acted when she got home afterwards.

Her reaction was _intoxicating_.

“So,” Felicity started. “Are you doing that steak thing for dinner tonight, or…?” 

Oliver grabbed her from behind, cutting her words off. 

She let out a startled, “Oh,” before he pushed her forward into the counter and then she was making a very different sound as he pressed his very evident arousal against her ass. “Oliver…”  


Oliver blanketed himself over her back, wrapping his arms around her waist, his lips finding her ear. “It’s later, Felicity.”

She made a gargled noise, dropping the spice she’d been about to put away. It landed with a loud clang on the counter that neither of them noticed.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered and he felt her shiver. “Tell me.”  


“Oliver…” He heard the hesitancy in her voice and it made him smile. He loved this woman so damn much. He pulled back just enough to spin her in his arms, leaning down to yank her skirt up her thighs before he lifted her up onto the counter, making her gasp when the cold counter hit her heated thighs. “Please…”

“Please what?” he asked, running his hands up and over her hips, his fingers sliding up underneath her shirt.  


A little strangled noise escaped her as she hung onto him, her eyes slipping shut. “Touch me…”

“Where?” he asked as he watched her. She was already blushing, the deep pink flush crawling up her chest and her neck, making her face glow so beautifully. His gorgeous, amazing wordsmith girlfriend was so damn naughty when she texted him, but when it came to actually saying the words,  _she couldn’t_ , and that was more of a turn on than all her texts combined.

She was so endearing and perfect and gorgeous and _Felicity._

“Here, touch me here,” she whispered, grabbing his hand and pushing it between her legs. “Touch me.”  


His hand didn’t move. “Felicity…” 

“Damn it, Oliver,” she murmured in frustration, squeezing her thighs around his hand, knowing exactly what he was doing. “Please.”  


He wasn’t deterred.

“Tell me,” he pressed.  


“Touch… put your… touch my…” She bit her lip and Oliver’s dick swelled at the sight, only growing harder as she struggled. “My clit, touch my clit with your… just like…”  


“God, Felicity,” Oliver breathed right before his lips covered hers, his fingers doing exactly what she asked.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/135801294859/headcannon-where-felicity-is-excellent-at-sexting)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	44. Touch Me (post-4x09 spec)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - badass-bookworm: as a very special Christmas gift (and to tie us over until January) could you write a fic about the first time Oliver and Felicity have sex after the attack in 4.09? like after she's out of the hospital and they're back in the loft? I feel like that would be a very affirming and emotional moment for them. thank you and merry Christmas!

His fingers dragged up her side lazily, drifting under the sheet, up her side. They trailed up and around her shoulder, falling back down her arm, taking his time, like he was memorizing the planes of her body, every little dip and curve and bump he ran into. When he reached her hand, he tangled his fingers with hers for a split second before releasing her, moving back up her arm.  


Felicity shivered.

Oliver pressed his lips to her forehead, softly, gently, as his fingers reached her shoulder and moved back down her side, skating over her ribs to her hip, down her thigh.

He knew exactly where the bullet had hit her leg, and he ran his fingers around the healing wound like he was staring right at it.

Without skipping a beat, he dragged his hand back up, following the same exact path he had been following for the last ten minutes.

“Oliver,” Felicity whispered, pressing a kiss to his throat, taking a deep breath. 

He was a mixture of his soap and her lotion with a little anesthetic from when he’d helped her clean her wounds earlier… and home. He smelled like home. 

She pressed herself closer, arching her back to press her chest against his, ignoring the slight twinge in her side when the wound under her ribs dug into the mattress. She lifted her leg, ignoring that twinge as well, wrapping it around his. She felt _him_  pressing against her stomach and it only made the burn in the bit of her stomach grow hotter. 

His hand faltered at her waist, knowing exactly what she was going to say. 

“Please…”

Oliver pulled away. “Felicity…”

It’d been nine weeks since the limo incident, six weeks since she’d been able to get up and actively move, to actively _do_  things instead of sit around in the wheelchair that had been fun for about five seconds, and one week since the doctor had cleared her to resume normal activities. 

 _All_  normal activities.

The second she’d woken up after surgery, she’d felt a bone-deep _need_  for Oliver that she’d never felt in her life. She knew it was a reaction to almost dying, to almost having everything she’d never realized she’d wanted so badly taken away from her, to seeing the way her injuries had hit Oliver, how ragged and torn he’d become over the weeks she’d been in the hospital, how his constant hunt for Darhk was ravaging him. They didn’t talk about the weight he’d lost or the sharp contrast he was gaining in his muscles again, just like when she’d first met him. He wasn’t eating as much again, or sleeping - all he did was hunt and take care of her.

The need was as much a reaction to her needing to _feel_  the love of her life against her, inside her, with her, as much as it was to show him that she was okay, that they were both okay, and they would make it… a need to _show_  him because she knew if she said anything, he wouldn’t hear her.

It was also a reaction to the fact that she’d had him every single day, sometimes multiple times, ever since they’d left the city all those months ago, and suddenly, she _couldn’t._ Her life had almost been taken away from her - Oliver had almost been taken away from her - and she hadn’t been able to do a damn thing about it for _weeks._

She _needed_  him, and she knew he needed her - she felt it in the way he held her, especially when he slept, how hard he grasped her before he realized what he was doing, how he looked at her with that quiet desperation like he wasn’t quite sure she was really there, really up and moving and _alive_.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Oliver said softly, shifting away from her.

“I agree,” Felicity replied, not the least bit deterred. She wrapped her arm around him, pulling him back, lifting herself up to press herself against the hardening ridge in his sweats. She bit back the hiss of discomfort when the movement pulled on her healing muscles, swallowing it down in favor of the choked gasp he gave her when she pressed up against him. “It’s a great idea.”  


“No,” Oliver said, shaking his head, gripping her hip lightly, pushing her back. “You’re still hurt.”  


Felicity barely bit back an aggravated groan.

They’d already tried, once. The second the doctor had given them the go-ahead, Felicity had had her hands down Oliver’s pants the instant they’d gotten back to the loft, wrapping her fingers around him, pumping his hardening member until he hadn’t been able to take it anymore. They’d wound up on the couch, Oliver undressing her and sliding to his knees, spreading her thighs…

It’d been so long and she’d been so tender that she’d bucked right up against his lips when he’d wrapped them around her clit and she hadn’t been able to stop her pained cry when a sharp stab of pain hit her right in the ribs at her movement.

He’d immediately stopped, jumping off her just as much as he’d grabbed her, running his hands over her to make sure she was okay. Her whispered, “I’m fine, I’m fine, don’t stop, please,” fell on deaf ears and the only thing she’d gotten him to do was push his fingers inside her at a glacial pace until she’d come… but that was it, that was all. 

And it’d been driving her _crazy_  ever since because he  _would just not touch her._

“Oliver, I need you,” she said softly, pressing her face against his jaw. His stubble scraped against her sensitive skin, making her shiver. 

Felicity pushed her hand between them, slipping it into his sweats. He inhaled sharply, his hand wrapping around her arm tightly as she cupped him, a surge of arousal searing through her when she felt him swelling under her touch. 

“I need to feel you inside me.”

His cock grew harder and she wrapped her fingers around his thick shaft, twisting her wrist slightly as she tugged on him, running her fingers over the sensitive head. 

“Felicity,” he groaned, his hand slipping down to cover hers through his sweats, but not to stop her - to encourage her. A quick surge of triumph and desire clashed through her and she moved a little faster, _squeezing_ him. “God…”  


His hips jerked against her and she tightened her grip on him even more, her own hips starting to rotate slightly, seeking friction.

“Touch me,” Felicity breathed, pressing closer. “Please.”  


Oliver shook his head with a whispered, “Baby, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Oliver…” Felicity bit her lip, something inside her melting at the tender plea in his voice as she shook her head. “You won’t.”

“Felicity…” he said, a pained hiss quickly following before he pulled her hand out of his pants. She made a little noise that he ignored completely as he wrapped himself around her, cradling her close. “Let’s just wait… please, until you’re more healed, okay?” He kissed the top of her head, sliding his hands reverently down her back. “I don’t want to hurt you again….

“Please.”  


She almost gave in -  _almost…_ because she’d seen the look on his face when he’d looked up at her after she’d cried out, the stark panic in his eyes, the guilt and horror that _he’d_ done that to her, that he honestly thought she was in pain _because_ of him… that he was making her feel that as a result of his actions.

She almost gave in because she felt his need to make sure she was safe and unharmed thrumming through him…

But the steady throb between her legs, the heated burn for his touch, to feel him inside her again, to feel _him_  hovering over her, blanketing her, taking her as she took him…

She couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“Oliver,” she moaned, shaking her head. “Oliver, please.”  


Felicity grabbed his hand and before he could take it back pushed it into her pajama shorts. She wasn’t wearing underwear, something that made him groan when she pressed his fingers against her sex… her very, very wet sex. She pressed his fingers between her nether lips, pushing them against her clenching entrance, both of them gasping at the sensation.

“I need to feel you, Oliver, I need you,” she whispered, arching her hips as she pushed his fingers inside her. The tips of his fingers fingers slipped in and she whimpered, pushing him deeper. “I need you inside me, I need you, I need you…”  


He was trembling against her, fighting himself just as much as he was fighting her. She felt him hardening, felt his chest expanding with quick breaths, his hurried pants against her hair.

“Felicity, please…”  


He needed her just as badly, she knew he did…

But he wasn’t giving in.

“Oliver,” she whined, pushing against his hand as she thrust up against him, his palm sliding over her clit.

“Fuck, Felicity,” he hissed, and the harsh word falling so involuntarily off his lips had a surge of wetness coating his fingers and he felt it. He _felt_  her need for him, and this time he thrust his fingers up into her, pushing two inside her as deep as he could.

His mangled moan mixed in with hers as she wrapped her leg tighter around him.

“Please,” she whispered, turning her face up to his. “Please…”  


With a strangled gasp, Oliver turned to her, his mouth slanting over hers.

The kiss was hot and powerful as she opened for him the second he touched her and he took complete advantage, tasting as much of her as he could as he thrust his fingers into her. Felicity ground down on his hand, whimpering against his lips, pushing him closer as she thrust up, but it wasn’t enough.

She needed _more_.

She needed _him_.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered, kissing her again as he shook his head. “I don’t want to hurt you.”  


“You can’t,” Felicity said softly against his lips. “You can’t hurt me, Oliver, not ever. Not ever.”  


“Felicity…”  


“Please, Oliver…” Felicity arched closer to him. “Please… I need you, I need to… _feel_  you in me, please…”  


She felt the hesitation in him, felt the war churning in him, his muscles growing taut, the thrust of his fingers losing all rhythm… and then he let out a quiet, “God, Felicity,” before pulling his hand out of her shorts. 

He sat up, pulling the sheet off both of them, his wet fingers sliding up under her shirt. She sat up just enough for him to pull it off, wincing slightly. He paused, for a split second, but Felicity shook her head with a harried, “I’m fine, I’m fine,” and this time he took her word for it, something that made everything inside her soar.

Oliver yanked his shirt off in the blink of an eye and then he was pulling her shorts off. It felt like he was both racing against time just as much as he was taking it slow, making sure he didn’t hurt her, and it only made her need for him grow.

The second she was naked, he gasped her name, his hands shoving his sweats off in the next moment as he stared at her with hooded lids, his eyes tracing every inch of her the moonlight shining through their window afforded.

“I love you,” he whispered reverently, his hands landing on her thighs, pressing them up as he moved to blanket her, his fingers slipping over the wounds on her thigh and her side. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she said softly, breathlessly, as he leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to each one, and she shuddered, slipping her hands into his hair, tugging on him. “Oliver…”

As he moved his way up, Felicity spread her legs, wrapping them around him as he hovered over her. His cock slid through her wetness, making her shudder.

“Are you okay?” he asked, keeping all of his weight off her, his muscles straining where he leaned over her, his hands cradling her face. “Felicity?”  


“Yes,” Felicity whispered, cupping his face as she nodded. “Yes, yes, a lot of yes, so much yes. Don’t stop, don’t stop…”  


Oliver chuckled, the quick grin pulling at his lips making her smile in return before she pulled him down for a kiss, swallowing the rest of the sound. He groaned, the sound vibrating through his chest and into hers and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders to tug him closer, but he kept himself off her.

“Oliver,” she moaned, pulling her legs up, wincing again when the movement tugged at her wounds, but the discomfort was gone just as quickly when he slid through her juices, the thick head of his cock slipping across her clit, making her gasp for him.  


“Felicity?”  


The fear in his voice was a living thing.

“I’m okay, Oliver, I’m okay, I’m okay…” Felicity cupped his face again, looking him in the eye. “I’m here and I’m okay. I’m okay.”  


“I know,” Oliver replied, his voice cracking. He was trembling again, and she knew it wasn’t from the strain of keeping his weight off her. Felicity gripped him tighter, brushing a series of soft kisses across his face as he whispered, “I just… I don’t want to hurt you, I can’t hurt you again, I can’t.”  


“You didn’t hurt me, Oliver, it wasn’t you, it was never _you_ ,” Felicity said softly, kissing his cheek, his nose, his eyelids, his brow… she washed him in love, as much as love as she could as she wrapped herself around him. “You wouldn’t hurt me, Oliver, and you won’t. You won’t…”  


“Felicity…”  


“I need to feel you inside me, Oliver, I need to feel _you_ , please…”  


He gasped.

“Come inside me, Oliver, please…”  


His hips moved back, the head of his cock brushing over her entrance.

“Please…”  


His entire body shook as he slowly pressed into her. She felt the fine tremble along every inch of him, from his lips to his stomach against hers and she opened herself to him, giving him everything.

“Felicity,” he whimpered, his forehead falling against hers.  


“Yes,” she managed, nodding rapidly, her mouth falling open as he filled her…  


It was almost too much.

He was so big, stretching her completely, and it stole the air right out of her lungs. She was vividly aware of every movement he made, every breath he took as he moved painfully slow, pushing into her until he was flush against her.

“Oh god,” Felicity panted, a soft whine lacing the words as he paused.  


“You okay?” he whispered, not moving. He was shivering even more now and her hips moved of their own accord at the sensation, something that made them both gasp.  


“Yes,” Felicity replied, nodding. “Yes, you’re just… it’s been a while.”  


Oliver huffed out a little chuckle and she grinned, shaking her head at him.

“Just… let me know, when…”  


“Now,” Felicity whimpered. “Now, now, please… now.”  


Oliver pulled out just as slowly as he’d pushed into her and thrust back in. He moved slowly, so slowly, and she welcomed every bit of it, of him. He made love to her, taking his time… but he kept himself off her, kept his weight off her.

“C’mere,” she moaned, wrapping herself around him, trying to tug him down but he just shook his head, gritting his teeth. “Oliver…”  


“Felicity, please…”  


“You won’t hurt me,” she whispered. “I promise.”  


He groaned, shaking his head and Felicity lifted her legs higher, wrapping them around his waist, not feeling anything but the bone-deep pleasure he was giving her as she pulled him down. He shook his head again, his trembling growing worse.

“Please…”  


And then with a quiet whimper, he gave in, thrusting into her with so much force it shook her bones as he blanketed her body with his.

“Oh god!” Felicity cried, digging her nails in. 

Oliver pulled out and thrust back in with just as much force, sending a shot of pleasure streaking through her as he shoved his fingers into her hair, wrapping the strands in tight fists as his thrusts grew more powerful, more urgent. 

She vaguely felt the tug of her wounds but it was so minimal to the pleasure, the pleasure radiating through her, the pleasure that was slipping through her veins like lava, burning her from the inside out… 

“Oh god… Oliver… don’t stop… don’t… don’t… oh god, oh god!”  


“Felicity,” he moaned, burying his face in her neck. “Felicity… Felicity…! I’m coming, I’m coming…”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Felicity gasped, her own pleasure starting to burn almost too bright. “Don’t stop…”  


“Felicity… Felicity, I can’t, I can’t… Felicity… aahh!”  


Oliver came with a sharp yell, his back bowing as he thrust wildly into her, his hips slamming into hers, his voice growing hoarse as he spilled into her, her body milking him for everything he had… 

His heavy thrusts slid right across her clit once, twice…

“Oh god!” Felicity yelped, her orgasm ripping through her like a serrated blade, cutting her from the inside out with a pleasure that had white sheeting over her eyes. “Oliver, Oliver, Oliver…!”

Oliver thrust into her one last time, as deep as he could go, sending another ripple through her that made her shudder underneath him, a pitiful cry falling from her lips before they both collapsed to the bed.

All of his weight was on her for a moment and Felicity gloried in it. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into his shoulder, jerking against him with each aftershock, murmuring his name over and over… and then he realized what he was doing. 

Oliver pushed himself up and pulled out of her, making her gasp at the sudden sensation against her tender flesh as he slipped to her side, propping himself up on his elbow as he looked over her.

“Are you okay?” he breathed, his hand falling down her body. His fingers danced over her skin, and she shivered as his coarse palms slid over her. “Is your side okay, your leg…?”

“I’m very… very okay, so okay,” Felicity replied, nodding. She turned towards him, pressing her face into his chest. “I love you. I love you.”  


“You’re sure?”  


“Yes,” Felicity said with a grin, stretching against him. “Yes. I’m okay. I feel… floaty, even, very floaty.”  


Oliver paused, his eyes flying over her, his hand quick to follow… and then he smiled, her words catching up with him.

Felicity grinned up at him, lifting her hand to cup his cheek. “I’m okay.”

He turned, pressing a kiss to her palm, nuzzling it softly. “I love you. So much. So much…”

“I love you too,” she said, opening her arms to him.  


Oliver slid down, pressing his face into her chest, curling himself around her as she cradled him close. He moved his hand down her side again, his fingers drifting over the wound on her thigh before moving back up, following the same path he had been before.

She fell asleep to his gentle touches as he fell asleep to the quiet lull of her heartbeat, wrapped tightly around each other.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/135942166889/as-a-very-special-christmas-gift-and-to-tie-us)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	45. Shared Dreams (post-4x09 spec)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous: Hey, I had this idea in my head for a while and I think that maybe you would like it. It's Christmas night, all members of team arrow are together et suddenly there are some kind of miracle and Robert, Moira and Tommy appears, they are able to talk with everyone and they all thanks Felicity for being here for Oliver and Thea

Felicity held the mistletoe as high as she could over her head, dangling it over Oliver’s with a grin. He rolled his eyes, setting the spoon he was using to stir the melting chocolate down before leaning over, giving her a soft kiss. He tasted like chocolate and red wine and everything _Oliver_  and she hummed, licking his lips.

“Considering how much you’re reminding everyone that this is a _holiday_ party, you’re being awfully generous with that mistletoe,” Oliver whispered, kissing her once more, twice, before pulling back to the sound of her giggling.  


“It’s just so handy though,” Felicity replied, twisting the plastic in her hand with a smile. “If I’m feeling a lack of Oliver kisses, I just need to…” She held it up again with a little, “Oh, look at that, it’s back.”  


“I’m never going to finish this sauce if you don’t stop,” Oliver said with chuckle, leaning over for another kiss.  


“Please let him finish that sauce,” Thea said from the dining room table, pointing at them with her wine glass. “He’s keeping that dessert hostage and while I don’t think violence is the answer…” Oliver glanced back at her and she amended, “On _Christmas_ , I will resort to it.”

“And I will poke my eyes out if you two don’t curb the PDA,” Diggle added.  


“It’s young love, Johnny,” Lyla said, using her foot to nudge him under the table. “I remember Gaynor having a few choice words about us when he found out.”  


Diggle snorted. “We were never like _that_. It wasn’t like we could make out around every corner where we met.”

“Oh, so what was that night during that second week when we were watching the…”  


“That was nothing like this,” Diggle said, holding his finger up with a grin that was only for Lyla.  


“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Felicity said, putting the mistletoe down and picking her wine back up just as the doorbell rang. “I’m done, I swear.”

Oliver snorted at that as Thea went to answer the door. 

Felicity moved to see who it was as well when Oliver set the spoon down again and wrapped his arm around her waist, spinning her back around. He picked up the mistletoe and held it over their heads, not giving her a chance to say a word before his lips fell on hers.

Neither of them heard Diggle’s, “Oh, for the love of…”

“If your sister yells at me again…” Felicity said, shaking her head in mock anger.

Oliver just made a face as he shook his head in return, nuzzling her nose with his. “Then she doesn’t get any chocolate.”

Felicity giggled.

“Ollie.”  


“Hmm?” Oliver asked, a smile still lighting his face as he released Felicity to look at his sister.  


She wasn’t alone.

The smile instantly dropped from his face as everything inside him froze.

“Hello, Oliver,” his mother said, a soft smile lighting her face, her arm wrapped around Thea’s shoulders.  


“Mom?” he managed, the word coming out in a bare whisper.  


“What?” Felicity asked before spinning to face them as well, her eyes widening. “Uh… what?”  


“Hi, son,” Robert said, a larger grin on his face. He stepped around Moira and Thea to reach Oliver and Felicity where they still stood by the stove. “It’s been a long time.”  


“A long…?” Oliver whispered, his jaw dropping. Robert stepped up, clapping him on the shoulder in a heavy thud that jolted him. “Dad?”

Robert just grinned, not saying anything else - he didn’t have to, the pride he felt for his son was etched all over his face - and then he was looked at Felicity.

“And this is Felicity,” Robert said with a nod, his tone changing to something reverent, an even more gracious grin on his face as he cupped her shoulder gently. “It’s an honor to meet you.”  


“What?” Felicity repeated, blinking. That was all she could do: blink.

“You’ve done so much for Oliver,” Robert said, squeezing her shoulder gently. 

The sincerity in his voice made her heart stop with a surge of emotion, an emotion she couldn’t really name because this… made no sense, but it still felt _real_. And that made no sense. Tears blurred her vision and she blinked them away, not wanting to miss this… even though she had no idea what _this_  was. 

“I’m so grateful he found you,” Robert continued.  


“Thank you?” she said, her voice barely audible. “I mean, of course thank you, or… you’re welcome would probably be more… better, but I clearly can’t talk or think or… understand what you’re doing here. Because you’re dead, drowned…” Her eyes slammed shut. “ _Not_ drowned, because you didn’t drown, you died… in another… way.” Her hand fell back, grasping for Oliver’s limp one. “Oh my god, what’s happening?”  


But Oliver didn’t hear her. 

His eyes were on someone else.

Someone else who was talking to Thea as Moira had migrated to talk to the Diggles.

“Can we never, ever talk about the fact that I had a crush on you?” Thea said and Tommy laughed - he _laughed_  and it was the most amazing thing Oliver had ever heard in his life. His best friend was right there, talking to his sister - to _their_  sister - and he was laughing and Oliver almost fell over.  


“Does it make you feel better that I thought you were a little hot?” Tommy asked. “Like definitely not brother-sister kind of hot… which is opening the door for weird hot so let’s just stop there.”  


“God, yes please,” Thea said with a grin and then Tommy was hugging her.  


Nobody in the room missed the whispered, “I’m so proud of you,” that Tommy gave Thea or the way her face crumpled with emotion.

“I miss you,” Thea whispered back and he nodded, giving her a kiss on the top of the head.

Oliver was frozen.

Moira came over, joining Robert, who pulled Felicity out of the way - that caught Oliver’s attention and he looked down, his brow furrowed because _what was happening_  but then Tommy said his name.

“Hey, buddy,” Tommy said with a grin, a grin that Oliver felt coming to life on his own lips as the shock instantly melted away, and he stepped forward, already lifting his arms. Tommy met him halfway, and they hugged each other, so hard Tommy choked out, “Whoa, I do still need air, you know.”  


“Tommy,” Oliver breathed, shaking his head. “How…?”  


“It doesn’t matter,” Tommy said. “This is just… a visit. Or you could think of it as a way to tell you that I’m haunting your ass.”

Oliver laughed, shaking his head, taking a shaky breath, blinking away a rush of tears as Moira spoke with Felicity, Robert moving to Thea.

“I was very blinded by own misconceptions,” Moira said, holding Felicity’s hand, who was practically slack-jawed. “You have been a light in my son’s life that he needed long before the Gambit went down. Thank you, for saving him, for being there for him… and for Thea. For being the family they needed.”  


A tear slipped down Felicity’s cheek, followed quickly be an incredulous laugh.

“I am honored for you to wear my ring,” Moira said, her thumb drifting over the diamond.  


“Thank you,” Felicity said and Moira reached out, wiping away the tear.  


“No, Felicity,” Moira said with a small, heartfelt smile. “Thank _you_.”  


“I…” Oliver said. “I don’t understand _how_ …”

Tommy just smiled. “You don’t have to. The only thing you have to do is know that you’re the best man I ever met in my life.”

“Tommy…”  


“And that I love you.” Tommy’s hand slid up, cupping the side of Oliver’s neck for emphasis. “You’ve become the guy I always knew you would be.”  


Oliver didn’t know what to say.

“And,” Tommy continued, his own voice choking with emotion before he grinned. “That’s because of this gal right here.”  


Felicity’s eyes flew to Tommy just as he stepped over and wrapped her in a giant bear hug. She let out a little squeak, holding on as Tommy jostled her with a boisterous laugh that had Oliver laughing right along him…

Because this was something he never thought he’d get to see.

His family, meeting his fiancee, knowing her, accepting her… loving her, just as much as he did.

“I owe you, Smoak,” Tommy said, setting her back down before dipping his head to catch her eye as she wiped tears from her face. “You did the impossible and that was putting that huge dopey grin on that idiot’s face back there.” He grabbed her hands. “We would’ve been great friends.”  


“Yeah?” she responded.  


&ldquoldquoOh hell yes,” Tommy said with a wink before turning back to Oliver, wrapping his arm around Felicity’s shoulder. “I would’ve always been on your side.”  


Everyone in the room laughed at that.

“Hey, you can’t fault me, I’d do anything to keep this girl in your life,” Tommy said with a grin at Oliver, one he readily returned…

* * *

Felicity woke with a start, the monitor on her heart rate jumping at the sudden shock of awareness. 

The loft faded quickly, melting back into her hospital room. The smell of chocolate disappeared as the the warmth of her home and being surrounded by loves ones turned into the cold room around her, to the stark blanket draped over her, the steady beep of the machines, the low hum of pain still seeping through her morphine haze…

But the sense of rightness she’d felt in the dream, of contentment, of _acceptance_ and love… that didn’t go away.

Oliver was in his chair, his head still resting on their threaded fingers as he slept, his other hand cradling her shoulder…

He woke a second after she did, jerking up in the chair, his hand gripping hers, his eyes flying around the room.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Felicity whispered, the sound coming out in more of a croak, and her voice had Oliver spinning back to her, blinking in confusion. “Oliver?”  


“Hey,” he said, swallowing past the dryness in his throat. He brushed his hand over her shoulder, his fingers brushing the side of her neck. “You okay?”  


“Yeah,” Felicity said with a tired smile, reaching her free hand out for him. He immediately leaned in so she could touch his cheek, his own smile lighting his tired features - the circles under his eyes were just as dark as they had been, the lines just as deep, a visual reminder of the three weeks she’d been out of commission. “I just… had a really weird dream, that’s all.”  


“You too?” Oliver replied, scrubbing his face before grabbing her hand again, pressing a kiss to her palm. “I had the weirdest dream. Mine was…”

He stopped, like he didn’t know quite how to describe it.

“What?” she asked.  


“You first,” Oliver said with a smile and she scrunched her nose at him.  


“I… I met Tommy,” Felicity said. “And your mom. Although I’d already met her, but not like… not like this, it was like… a really weird family reunion. With your dad and Thea and John and Lyla and…” She sighed, looking at him… and then she frowned. “What?”

He blinked, staring at her before shaking his head. “Nothing.” His brows drew together in contemplation before he said, “That just sounds exactly like my dream.”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/135954227624/hey-i-had-this-idea-in-my-head-for-a-while-and-i)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	46. Moved (4x10 spec)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: 
> 
> So do you think Oliver will maybe feel guilty for pulling Felicity out of the car? Once he hears about the spinal damage?  
> What if the damage to felicitys spinal cord isn't just from the bullet, but from Oliver pulling her out of the limo??

  
  
  


_“She’s never gonna walk again.”_

_No._

“What?”

“She had… a bullet was lodged, or it was… near her spine or something, I don’t…” Donna shook her head, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. “Oliver, my baby’s never gonna walk and I don’t…”

He blinked, _hearing_ her but the words were foreign, not real.

_Not real._

Damage to her spine.

Never gonna walk again.

He tried to take a breath but he couldn’t. 

Acid flooded his veins, spreading through his chest, his arms, his legs…

What did that mean? Was she paralyzed, or would she be in a wheelchair, or…

Donna took a shaky breath, her eyes finding him, but he didn’t see her. He was staring at the floor, trying to comprehend it, comprehend a _bullet_  slicing through his fiancee’s body and into her spinal cord.

How many times had he been shot, or stabbed or thrown against a wall so hard that he swore something cracked? How many times had he been beaten or dropped or kicked or… 

And one bullet - _one bullet -_ did so much damage.

If he’d only stayed there a little longer, or moved sooner, or quicker, or…

Donna covered his hands, whispering his name just as a doctor came up.

“Mr. Queen?”  


Oliver looked up at the physician, feeling like he was moving in quicksand. 

His tongue was heavy as said, “Yes?”  


“I’m glad you’re here, I had a question about the, uh… the mode, in which Ms. Smoak was injured.”  


Donna squeezed his hand, but he didn’t feel it.

Oliver frowned. “The mode?”

“Yes. The damage…” The doctor waved to Donna. “I’m sure Ms. Smoak here told you that Felicity suffered some spinal damage, enough that we’re worried she won’t be able to walk again.”  


“So there’s a chance?” Oliver interrupted. “A chance she will walk?”  


The doctor’s brow furrowed with sympathetic caution. “We need to go back in, to see how bad the damage is. We didn’t want to risk doing more without knowing _how_  it happened first.”  


“She was shot,” Oliver said baldly.  


“Yes, she was… but the bullet didn’t reach her spine.”  


Blood rushed through Oliver’s ears as he repeated the words.

_The bullet didn’t reach her spine._

So how…?

“I know this is difficult, and I apologize, but we need to know before we move forward. Was she moved, after the shooting?”  


_Moved._

Was she moved?

“Mr. Queen?”  


His mind was back in the street… back in the limo when he’d driven them out of danger, when he’d taken the limo up the barrier, surely throwing her around in the back and then when he’d opened the door… pulling her out…

Was she moved?

“Mr. Queen?”  


“Yes,” he whispered, nodding, his eyes burning with tears. “Yes, she was moved.”

The doctor’s voice was gentle as he asked, “How?” 

Donna was squeezing his hand.

“The limo was… I had to drive the limo out of there and I went up a barrier, I think she was… thrown.” His voice cracked. “And then I pulled her out.”

Silence.

“I pulled her out and I… held her, I pulled her out, and…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/137691593249/so-do-you-think-oliver-will-maybe-feel-guilty-for)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	47. First Dance (post-4x10)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something fortuitous happened. [@captainsamell](http://captainsamell.tumblr.com/) sent me a prompt regarding [this scene](http://elysewilllems.tumblr.com/post/111929417819/this-morning-i-was-told-that-i-wont-get-my-braces), and I flailed about because I’d just had this thought when I woke up this morning after seeing a post… This was the result.

“Hey,” Oliver said softly. Felicity heard the rustle of pages as he set his notebook down. “What is it?”

Her hand was frozen in midair, the ring catching the light from the lamp on his nightstand perfectly, making the diamond sparkle. 

A fine tremor danced along the edge of her fingers and she made a light fist, turning towards him just enough so he could see the smile on her lips.

“Nothing. I was just admiring,” Felicity said, her voice clear. She wiggled her fingers for emphasis. The ring caught more of the dull light, and it made her heart clench. It was flawless, absolutely beautiful. “It’s so shiny.” Oliver made a little sound in response and she leaned back just enough to give him a smile. “I’m still very _‘oh shiny!’_ from all those drugs they had me hopped up on.” 

She didn’t give him a chance to respond before she turned away again, curling into her pillow, fighting the grimace at the still-strange sensation of her legs

“Oh,” Oliver said and then she heard the distinct sound of his pen sliding into his notebook. He shut it and set it on his nightstand.

She expected him to turn the light off and curl around her, just as he had for the last several nights since she’d gotten home, holding her as tightly as he dared until he fell asleep, until the weight of his arm around her waist grew heavy enough for her to take a deep breath and let out the single tear she allowed herself…

She could really use that tear right now, and Felicity bit her lip, pushing it back down along with the question that’d been pressing at the edges of her mind since she watched that movie earlier. She could wait.

But he didn’t follow his routine.

Instead, the light stayed on as Oliver pushed himself closer, wrapping his arm around her waist and tugging her back into him. It used to be her favorite thing, how easily he could move her, how fond he was of pressing every inch of his body against hers, the little stretch and moan she gave him when she felt _him_ …

But now she felt a lot less and it was the only thing she could think about before she pushed that down as well.

Oliver used his other hand to brush the hair off her neck, dropping a light kiss along her hairline. Her eyes fluttered shut, her chest tightening with affection and something else she didn’t know how to name as he pulled her closer, laying his head on hers.

His stubble bit into her cheek and ear.

“Talk to me, Felicity,” Oliver whispered.

Her heart stuttered. “About what?”

“About all those thoughts I can see racing through your head,” he replied, his other arm snaking over her pillow so he could tap her forehead. She closed her eyes, a ghost of a smile touching her lips. “Talk to me.”

“I’m fine,” Felicity said, and this time even she heard her voice crack. She shook her head. “It’s just a lot to get used to.”

Oliver took a deep breath, his hard chest expanding against her back before letting it out in a gentle, “I know.”

She felt him open his mouth to say something else but he hesitated, and for reasons she couldn’t begin to fathom, that had another surge of tears burning her eyes. 

Just a few weeks ago they wouldn’t have wavered for even a millisecond; they’d been through too much, seen too much, had too much between them to waste any time _not_ saying what was on their minds, but now… now there was a _wall_ , a wall that hadn’t been there before, and she wasn’t sure if she was putting it there, or if she was reacting to something, or if he was doing it and she was just toeing the line… ha, _toeing_ the line, what an appropriate term to use.

“You were just looking at your ring.”

Felicity’s eyes flew open, the hand wearing the ring in question shifting like it knew it was being talked about.

“Shiny,” she repeated.

Oliver huffed out a chuckle. “It’s very shiny… but that’s not what you were thinking.”

Felicity snorted under her breath, a tear escaping before she could stop it, soaking into her pillow. “How do you know?”

“Because I know you, Felicity,” he whispered. She inhaled sharply and he hugged her tighter, nuzzling his face into her neck, his fingers sliding through her hair. She shivered when his stubble scraped against the sensitive skin. “And you weren’t thinking about how shiny it was.”

Felicity’s lip trembled and she pulled it between her teeth.

She could _feel_ the words bubbling to the surface, because she wanted to tell him, she wanted to tell him _everything_ … but at the same time, she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to _burden him_. She didn’t want him to know that she cried herself to sleep because she was afraid she wasn’t as strong as he said she was, or that she couldn’t be part of the team as much as she was, or that what she was really afraid of was freezing under the pressure and somebody getting hurt because of her… _Oliver_ getting hurt because of her. He thought she was so strong, that she could do anything, but this…

She didn’t know if she could.

Oliver didn’t say anything; he waited, patiently - _perfectly_ \- and that had more tears blurring her vision.

She didn’t even know how to _think_ about the things she discovered crawling around in the back of her mind when what their future looked like surfaced… about the life he would have now that she couldn’t walk, that everything would be changing, that it would always be changing to accommodate her new circumstances… that she wasn’t sure she could be everything he needed.

It was irrational; she _knew_ it was irrational. He was there. Even when he hadn’t come to the hospital, even when she’d found herself wondering _‘what if,’_ all those thoughts had been obliterated when he finally did come, when she finally saw him and she’d just _known_ he would always be there, no matter what. 

She knew because if the situation was reversed, she’d be there.

 _Still_.

Like he knew what she was thinking, Oliver held her a little closer, and she was speaking before she could stop herself.

“I was just… thinking about our first dance,” Felicity said, the words coming out in a weird rush. He stopped breathing for a quick second, and she wondered what he’d been expecting her to say, but then he was relaxing again. She blinked away more tears, smiling - more for herself because it made the blow less harsh as she spoke, “Our first dance… at our wedding.”

Silence.

It wasn’t a bad silence, but it wasn’t a good one either, and the more time that passed, the longer he didn’t say anything, the more Felicity started to wish she could snatch those words back, because _this_ was exactly what she’d been worried about, about him realizing she wasn’t as strong as…

“C’mere,” Oliver said, sitting up, letting go of her abruptly. 

“What?”

Oliver pushed himself up and crawled over her, up off the bed, already pulling the comforter off her before offering her his hands.

Felicity shook her head. “Oliver, I can’t…”

“You can,” he said. He stared down at her, waiting, _patiently_. He didn’t take her hands, he didn’t force her, he didn’t tell her that she could and she would… He said she could do it, and he left it up to her.

_He left it up to her._

Her stupid lip started trembling again as she looked at him.

Oliver just smiled, waiting.

Something told her he’d wait forever, for as long as she needed, he’d wait.

After a second, she smiled back.

Felicity finally put her hands in his and he helped her sit up. He pushed the rest of the comforter off, sliding his arm under her legs, pulling them around so they were hanging off the edge of the bed, until her feet were touching the ground.

The nerves in her spine hadn’t been severed completely. The doctor said her sensation would change with time, her body would adapt as best it could - she might feel some things one day and then the next day, it’d be gone… 

But right now, she could still feel some things, and the carpet was one of them.

It felt amazing.

“C’mere,” Oliver said, sliding his feet underneath hers - the feeling made her smile. He took her hands. 

“Oliver,” Felicity started, but he was already leaning down, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her up. She let out a soft, “Oh,” as he picked her up, her feet still on his. Felicity gripped his naked shoulders, her other hand holding onto his bicep like, well, like she might fall. “Oliver…”

“I have you, Felicity,” he whispered into her hair, pulling back to look down at her. “I have you.”

“I know,” she replied, curling her arm around his neck. 

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

She didn’t hesitate. “Always.”

Oliver grinned, readjusting slightly, picking her up a little bit and she managed to slide her bare feet up his just enough that she was firmly on him.

“May I have this dance?” he asked softly.

Felicity beamed up at him, a tear sliding down her cheek. 

For the first time in weeks, it wasn’t a sad tear.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Oliver kissed her softly before he started moving, carrying her around the room on his feet, dancing with her to music only they could hear in the soft light of their bedroom…

Their first dance.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/137998387184/first-dance-olicity-post-4x10)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	48. Shadows in the Light (No Need To Hide) (post-4x11)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-4x11. Just another night in the Smoak-Queen household. (Co-written with my beta, Margaret)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felicity has a serious, life-changing injury and I know next to nothing about what it’s like to have a spinal cord injury, or what changes occur, etc. nor do I know what it’s like to have any disability. This fic is entirely, 100% based on research, and imagination. We wanted realistic but still within the confines of the land of _TV Magic_ with a lot of romantic smutty feels. (Like, it’s TV Magic that Felicity is doing so well post-op because Damian Darhk only gave the Arrow two weeks off, etc.)
> 
> All feedback is more than welcome! Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Also, this fic wouldn't have been anything without Margaret - she brought a ton of more research and encouragement and her amazing writing to this fic! (And can we all do some jazz-handing that she wrote something for Olicity, even if it was a small something?! I'm giddy she reads my messy writing at all, much less that we wrote a fic together.)

Oliver sat on the edge of the bed on her side, his notebook balanced on his knee, writing. The second he heard her emerge from the bathroom, he looked up and Felicity smiled at him. Her man kept a _diary_. She’d never get over it. Especially because he never kept it hidden from her and it was full of love notes and mock-up sketches for training techniques. And recipes. 

“You should’ve seen my face when Sandy told me I could try the intermittent catheter program,” she said, wheeling herself towards the bed with practiced ease. “She said I looked like a kid in a candy shop.” She shrugged. “A candy shop full of catheters, but a candy shop nonetheless.” Felicity rolled to a stop before him and smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Oliver said, closing his book, tossing it behind him. His eyes danced down her body, taking in her loose coral t-shirt and panties. “I like the new look.”

“Me too,” Felicity said, looking down. “Look, no tubes, no tape, no strap, no double ports, no bag, no…”

Oliver laughed. “C’mere,” he said, reaching for her chair, wheeling her closer, opening his legs so she was between them. He cupped her face, kissing her softly. He inhaled slowly, like he was savoring her, and it made her heart skip a beat. Felicity leaned into him, holding onto his forearms as she kissed him back, savoring him just as much as he savored her.

It would never cease to amaze her how wonderful he’d been. It was a lot, more than a lot, her change in lifestyle, what it meant for every single minute of her day, how everything was different now. She would’ve been fine on her own, she would have made it work like everything else - and that likely would have meant she’d have to get far more used to having her mother around - but with Oliver there, helping her as he was, every single step of the way… it made it easier, better.

“Did you know,” Felicity said, pulling back to look at him, “that the new catheter prototype Applied Sciences is working on is going to cut the infection rate by 72%.”

“You’re gonna put WayneMedical out of business at this rate.”

“I was actually thinking merger,” Felicity replied with a bright smile. “It’s part of my ten year plan. Well, Ray’s ten year plan really.” She wheeled herself back and forth, tilting her head in thought as she talked. “I want to strip the medical and technical parts out of Gotham and move them here, and they can have our outdated overseas weapons subsidiaries. Match made in heaven. What do you think?”

“I think it’s brilliant,” Oliver said. “Yet another reason why you were the perfect choice to run the company.”

“Ha,” Felicity said, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “I think that’s still up for debate. Especially where the board’s concerned.”

“No,” Oliver said softly and she made a little noise, because the emails she’d been getting from the office said otherwise. He reached forward and pulled her back between his legs, moving just enough so his lips hovered right over hers as he whispered, “You are perfect, in more ways than one.”

“You’re so sappy,” Felicity said, scrunching her nose at him, unable to keep the grin off her lips. Tonight’s diary entry would prove her right.

Oliver scrunched his nose right back as he said, “It’s your fault.” 

Just as Felicity opened her mouth to retort that _maybe_ she’d given him reason to be sappy here and there, but he’d been sappy the entire time, Oliver kissed her. She sighed, sliding one hand up his arm to grip the side of his neck. He was so warm, so soft…

She didn’t feel his hand on her hip until she heard the quiet sound of him tugging on her panties, letting them snap gently against her skin.

“You should’ve left these off,” Oliver said, barely giving her a chance to say anything before he kissed her again, pulling her bottom lip between his in a practiced move that had a familiar tug of warmth gathering at her center. 

God, she loved him, she loved him so much, for being the wonderful man he was, for somehow getting better and better with each day.

But there was still _one thing_ …

Felicity groaned. 

She pulled back, licking her lips as she looked at him. “I hate that I can’t just climb on top of you when I want to anymore.”

Oliver grinned. “All you have to do is ask.” Before she could respond, Oliver pushed her chair back, locked it in place and gripped her hips, lifting her a bit to scoot her closer to the edge. Her thighs stuck slightly to the seat, but not enough to deter either of them as he leaned over her and whispered, “Hold on.”

And she did.

He gripped her under her thighs and lifted her up like she weighed absolutely nothing, and while she couldn’t feel the delicious pressure of his fingers biting into her thighs anymore, she remembered well enough how his hands felt. It was enough for her to feel a spike of heat slice through her at the memory, enough for her to giggle as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Oliver sat back down on the bed with her in his lap, her legs bent next to his, her hips fused to his.

She couldn’t feel him like she could before, but she’d learned long ago that all she had to was watch him. She’d never noticed before the way his eyes fluttered shut at the increased pressure against his arousal - his arousal for _her_ \- and how his cheeks flushed, his lips parting in a tiny pant.

He was gorgeous, absolutely beautiful; it was something she’d known before, but this was _more_ , it was so much more, almost heady _seeing_ the power of what he felt when she touched him all over his face. He was so incredibly expressive; he’d always been so expressive with her, even when he was trying to be covert-vigilante guy, and even more so when they’d finally gotten together - he didn’t hold anything back with her. He showed her _everything_ and it was quickly becoming one of the most erotic things _ever_.

Oliver moved her closer, licking his lips and he gripped her hips, sliding her against him in a thrusting motion that had his eyes slipping shut as he shuddered. 

Felicity smiled, hugging him closer, pressing her lips to his forehead. She kissed her way down the bridge of his nose before diverting to his cheek, to his ear. She wrapped her lips around his ear, pressing his lobe between her teeth, and he shuddered again, his hands sliding up her back, to where she could feel him.

The second his fingers danced over her lower back, she shivered, gasping, “Oh god,” against his ear.

So, so sensitive, she was so sensitive there, and he…

He did it again, making her moan.

“You feel so good, Felicity,” he whispered, his words muffled against her neck. “So good.”

“Yes… yes, Oliver.” She licked the shell of his ear, pressing her hands into his hair, scraping her nails over his scalp. He thrust up, making her bounce slightly, and he did it again, rotating his hips. “Oliver…”

He pulled back with a shaky breath, his hands sliding up her back again. Another sharp shiver followed his fingertips as he dragged them up underneath her shirt, following her spine up, knowing _exactly_ what he was doing, exactly what it took to make every inch of sizzle with awareness.

He pushed her shirt up and she lifted her arms, letting him pull it off. He dropped it on the floor without ceremony, his arms already winding around her, his fingertips feather-light over her shoulder blades, his lips finding the center of her chest.

“Oh… please…” she choked out, her head falling back, her hands finding his hair again, guiding him to where she knew it would feel so, so good… so good, god, she needed more, so much more. Just a few strokes and she was already an incoherent mess.

Sex was actually getting better, the more they explored, the more they tried, and she knew he knew because of how much more vocal she was getting.

She was just so incredibly _sensitive_ , in such different ways, something they were both discovering. The orgasms were different, even if she wasn’t sure anyone could call them actual orgasms. They were more… all around her, instead of like they used to be. Before it was like an inferno in the pit of her stomach, focused on her sex, a hot fire waiting to explode, and when it did, it shot through her body like a rocket, leaving a trail of pleasure so vivid in its path that she could only gasp for air. It was still like that, but not as… physical. She’d tried to explain it to Oliver one night, when he’d asked, but she wasn’t sure _how_ to explain it. It was there… just different.

Oliver licked his way down her chest, his hands spanning her back. He dug his nails into her lightly, just enough to _feel_ them, and she moaned, jerking against him. He leaned forward, urging her back, and she went along with it, knowing he would hold her. The weightlessness was part of it, the fact that he could still hold her like that, still make her feel like that… feeling like she was floating as his tongue circled her nipple was _incredible_.

“Yes,” she hissed. “Oliver, please…”

Oliver wrapped his lips around her nipple and _sucked_.

“Oh!” Felicity shouted, arching into him just as she pulled him in closer. His tongue flicked over the little nub, making her cry out again, and then he pressed it to the roof his mouth, right against the rough surface. “Ooh, god, Oliver…!”

She felt a tug of warmth in the lower pit of her stomach, at least what _felt_ like the lower pit of her stomach. It was lower than that, deeper, somewhere hidden deep inside her where there was nothing but pleasure and right now it was growing hot, so hot, as he continued to suck on her. He moved, shifting her, holding her up with one arm - she felt every bit of his muscles tightening right against her, and it was so sexy, so erotic, that the warmth spread. Oliver slid his hand down her back again, right across the sensitive skin on top of where her lack-of-sensation started, and she jerked bodily - _so, so sensitive_. He moved his hand up her side, over her ribs, up to her shoulder, his warm, calloused palm scraping over her before he moved it back down her chest, taking his time - his sweet, sweet time - before he found her neglected breast.

The heat of his hand skated over her painfully hard nipple, and Felicity gripped his hair so tight as a guttural moan slipped out of her that she would probably be worried later that she was going to rip it all out on accident one day.

But at the moment she didn’t care, god, she didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was that he not stop, that he never stop.

The nipple he sucked on slowly became more and more tender, to the point of pain, and like he knew exactly - _exactly_ \- what he was doing, Oliver sucked as much of her breast into his mouth as he could, making her cry out his name… and suddenly gripped her other breast in a tight hold just as his teeth slipped over her nipple.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” Felicity whimpered mindlessly, pleasure radiating across every inch of her. She was lost in sensation, lost in him, lost in everything. “Oliver…”

He released her with a loud pop, and the sharp chill in the room against the heated wetness on her breast made her shudder.

Oliver pulled her up against his chest again - her nipples slipped over his hard pecs, so painfully sensitive, and she could feel the trembling in her arms as she held him close, her lips finding his.

The kiss was hard and demanding, and he tasted so good, she never wanted to move. He wrapped his arms around her, one hand gripping her waist while the other held the back of her neck, his hips thrusting up into her, against her sex… 

She couldn’t feel it, she couldn’t feel _him_ , but that didn’t stop them from both moaning, loudly, their mixed sounds filling the room, like she was a direct conduit into what he was feeling.

God, she needed _more_.

“Oliver,” she whispered against his lips. “Please…”

He knew exactly what she wanted, what she _needed_.

“I need you, Felicity,” he breathed, his words nearly lost as he kissed her again, and again, like he couldn’t stop. “I need to be inside you, I need to feel how warm you are…”

“Yes…” she gasped, nodding. She could imagine the heat inside her core growing warmer, she could imagine it perfectly, what she must feel like, what he would feel when he touched her… “Oliver…”

He pulled back, his hand sliding to cup her face as he looked up at her, his thumb dragging over her lower lip. “I need to be inside you, I need to see your face… see the way you look at me when I’m on top of you, when you feel me…” She was nodding rapidly, wordlessly asking for more. “The way you tremble when I touch you, when I…” His hand slid down her chest, his thumbnail flicking over her nipple. Felicity moaned, pressing closer. “Do this… with my tongue… my teeth.”

Her cry was wordless.

“When you cry out, just like that,” he continued, his words just as breathless as she felt, his chest moving with quick breaths, his skin so hot underneath her. “God, I love when you do that, you sound so perfect, so beautiful…”

“I want you inside me, Oliver, I want you to come inside me,” she whispered.

“Yes,” he hissed. 

“I need you,” she whimpered. “Please.”

“Felicity…”

“Please…”

With a harried groan, Oliver’s hands suddenly dropped and he picked her up with startling ease, making her yelp at the sudden change in gravity. He spun, keeping her legs in place around him, trusting her to not let go of his neck and shoulders as he laid her down gently in the center of their bed.

He let go of her legs, letting them fall around him gently, his hands already moving to her panties. She didn’t feel his fingers sliding under the bands, or feel him tugging them down, or his hands lifting her just enough to get them over her backside before he pulled them down the length of her legs… she didn’t feel it, but she watched him with hooded lids, her eyes on _him_ as he undressed her.

She could watch him until the end of eternity, watch the way his eyes darkened as he took his time, as his hands slid up her legs, gaining just as much - if not more - pleasure from watching _his_ pleasure as he touched her.

He was so beautiful, and he made _her_ feel beautiful by the way he looked at her, at the hunger in his eyes when they found her sex, the sex she remembered used to clench at the mere sight of him…

She expected him to spread her legs like he normally did, to press his thumb against her clit, for his eyes to find hers as he massaged her, whispering more naughty things, going over memories of their road trip, of the dozens of times they’d made love in the loft, the hundreds of times around the world, the times when they’d barely managed to leave the hotel room because they couldn’t get enough of each other. He reminded her what he felt like just as much as he told her what she felt like, reminding her how good she felt when he licked her clit, when his fingers were inside her, how she would writhe under his touch…

The words that fell from his lips were nearly as intense as the memories, and just as effective at getting her in the moment with him. Lubrication was an issue - they’d both done research and bought new bottles of product for sensitive skin, laughing when they realized they’d been hiding the same bottles of lube in their bedside tables - and when Felicity realized Oliver had done research on the issue, “for whenever we’re ready,” she’d been too touched to tease him. Until he showed her all the sites he’d bookmarked on sexual activity with a SCI. 

“How much research have you done?” she’d asked, scrolling down the list.

“Felicity, I could write a blog.”

So she fully expected him to stretch his long, powerful arm across her and yank open the drawer on his side, neater than hers, and uncap the bottle to warm some on his fingertips before pressing it into her, before rubbing it on himself. Or maybe he’d hold it out to her and let her do it, because that was fun. More fun than she’d expected. 

But he didn’t do that this time.

This time he slid his hands up her hips, and the second she _felt_ him, felt his hands sliding up over the delicately sensitive area right above her hips, she moaned, her head falling back as sensation swamped her.

“I wanna try something,” he whispered, and Felicity was nodding before she could comprehend his words.

Anything, she’d try anything he wanted. _Anything_.

Oliver gripped her tight and leaned back, rolling her over onto her stomach. She caught herself, shivering when her breasts pressed against the cold comforter, pushing herself up onto her elbows to look back at him through a curtain of hair. He was already there, leaning over her, only wearing his sweatpants - the very large, very urgent tent in the front told her he was just as affected as she was, and it was _intoxicating_ that she could do that for him, that she made him feel that. He swept her hair out of her face and off her neck, his lips landing on the back of her shoulder.

Felicity bowed her head with a soft moan, arching into his touch.

The bed shifted as Oliver straddled her. She felt the gentle pressure along her back as he settled over her lightly… and then his hands found her back. Her breathing stuttered to a stop as he ran his fingers up and down her back, following the line of her spine, taking a moment to drift over the scars littering her lower back from the bullet that’d struck her spinal cord and the incision marks from her multiple surgeries… and then back up.

Oliver pressed his fingers into her muscles, starting at her neck and moving down. Felicity moaned, barely getting her glasses off before she pressed her face into the comforter, melting under his touch as he massaged his way down her back. Calluses from his bow roughened the fingers of his right hand, and she shivered every time his strong hand stroked her skin. 

He took his time, massaging out small kinks here and there, before he paused to run his fingertips down her spine again… right down to what was quickly becoming the most sensitive part of her body. Every single time he touched her lower back, the sensations crested in a wave of sensation almost too much to bear… but she wanted more. So much more.

The slow-building warmth at her core was growing again, a simmer of heat. 

His fingers massaged her sides, the tips grazing against the side of her breasts before moving up to her shoulders. He was gentle with her, taking his time, and he moved down her arms, squeezing rhythmically, making her melt more and more...

Like that was exactly what he’d been waiting for, Oliver suddenly moved again, the mattress depressing as he leaned over her…

And then there was nothing.

Felicity could feel him where he hovered over her, feel his heat radiating off him, his presence, but he wasn’t moving, not until he blew across the surface of her skin, right over her shoulders.

“Oooh god,” she whined, digging her fingers into the bedspread. “That feels… so good… Oliver…”

He did it again, and she shivered, goosebumps erupting in the path of his breath, following her spine all the way down. Felicity took an unsteady breath, expecting him to do it again, but instead, Oliver pressed a soft kiss to the center of her back. She moaned, and he moved down, following her spine, kissing her softly but concentrating more on pressing his face against her sensitive skin.

Pressing his harsh, uneven stubble against her back.

It felt _amazing_. And he knew it.

“Oliver,” Felicity whimpered, grabbing handfuls of the comforter, arching her back. The bed moved with him as he moved down her body, getting closer and closer to…

The second he reached that sensitive band right above her injury, he turned his face and dragged his stubble right across it.

“Oh god,” she moaned, the words choking off at the end as she pushed herself up, her back bowing. He did it again and she cried as a spasming shiver shot through her. Oliver skated his hand up her back, pushing her back down as he pressed his lips to the very center of that band, his tongue darting out followed quickly by his teeth. Felicity jerked against him, a shocking wave of heat slicing through her. “Oh!”

Oliver was moving again, shifting, but she didn’t care, she didn’t care what he was doing as he dragged his face over that spot again, making her shiver, her unbidden cries ringing through the loft.

She could feel it building, whatever it was that she felt when she came now, that strange, warmth that began deep inside her, like a sea of tiny pinpricks across the surface of every single nerve in her body… it was building, growing hotter and hotter the more he touched her, the more mindless he made her, the crazier he drove her… higher and higher…

“Don’t stop,” she begged, falling back on the bed, gripping handfuls of fabric so tight her fists hurt, but she didn’t care as long as he continued. She rocked her chest against the bed, craving the friction, something… _something_ … “Don’t stop, please don’t stop…”

She didn’t realize what she was doing until he suddenly _did_ stop and she let out a breathy, desperate whine as she tried to move, tried to recapture it herself, but she _couldn’t_. It was right there, so close… she needed _more_.

“Oliver…”

“You’re wet, Felicity,” he whispered, his voice coming out in that soft, intimate voice he only used when they were alone, together, usually about to come undone. Felicity blinked, trying to catch her breath, trying to comprehend what he was saying. “You are _so wet_.”

“What?” Felicity breathed, pushing herself up to look back at him.

Everything inside her _seized_ at the sight he made. He was kneeling between her legs where they were spread, his hand buried between her thighs; his lips hovered over her, nearly pressed to one of her cheeks. She was quivering, her skin flushed and _hot_ \- she didn’t have to feel it to know it was hot, that she was close to a release, a release she so desperately _craved_ \- and the visual of his arm moving…his fingers inside her, touching her…

“Oliver,” she gasped. “Are you…?”

“Yes,” he said, nodding, looking up at her. “I’m inside you, feeling you, I have two fingers inside you and you… you’re so wet, Felicity, you haven’t been this wet… god, and hot, you’re so _hot_.”

“Oliver…” She whimpered, her eyes on his hand, her skin growing flush as she imagined what he was doing. “Tell me.”

“I…” He took a quick breath, his eyes slipping shut… and then he pulled his hand out gently, shaking his head. “I have to taste you, right now, I…”

Felicity was _close_ , she was so close. She nodded frantically, her body practically vibrating as she helped him twist her body around again until she was sprawled out on her back. Felicity pushed herself up on her elbows, her eyes on him as he pressed her legs apart, his hands sliding under her thighs to lift them up. She couldn’t feel any of it except for a dull, super-thin pressure… but the rational part of her told her it was her mind compensating, somehow, that she couldn’t actually _feel_ him…

But god, she felt like she could. 

Need burned across the surface of her skin.

His eyes never left hers as he leaned down, his hands moving to sprawl across the inside of her thighs, holding them open as he slid them up. Felicity gasped, sitting up more to see their progress. His thumbs slowly spread her nether lips open and his tongue darted out to taste her.

Oliver groaned, licking her more readily, and she felt… _something_. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, but it was there, a tender reminder that she was still feeling something… but that wasn’t what had fire racing through her veins. It was the sounds he made as he tasted her, as his tongue slid up and down her sex - she _was_ wet, she was so wet, she could see her arousal on his nose and his lips. His fingers held her tighter, his fingertips turning white from the pressure, and she moaned, her mind automatically filling in the blanks…

Holding herself up with one elbow, Felicity moved her other hand over the sensitive skin of her stomach and up her chest. She cupped one of her breasts, her fingers rolling the nipple. Her eyes slipped shut for a split second, her head falling back as a heady wave of pleasure swamped her, and she forced them open in the next second, needing to see _him_ … His eyes were on her hand and he made a low groaning noise, almost a growl, and she felt that familiar swell starting to grow again, deep in her center. It grew bigger, her eyes on him, and it grew hotter when she pinched her nipple. 

She couldn’t take it anymore, she needed him inside her.

“Oliver,” she gasped, but he’d seen the need in her eyes and was already moving.

He moved back, releasing her legs slowly, carefully, and then he stood up, shoving his sweats down. Felicity struggled to sit up, gripping the comforter and then the edge of the bed to find her balance, one hand reaching for him. Her fingers wrapped around his cock and it jumped in her hand, his moan quick to follow, her other hand sliding around to his ass, her nails digging in to pull him closer but he stopped her, shaking his head rapidly as he cupped her face with one hand, the other covering her other over his length.

“If you do that, I won’t last,” Oliver whispered and her only response to give him a little pout, one that made him chuckle, a breathless sound that told her how close he was. She turned her face into his hand, nuzzling his palm slightly - his fingers smelled like her and it made her whimper. 

Before she knew what she was doing, her tongue darted out to taste. 

“ _Felicity_ …” 

“Sorry,” she whispered, not sounding the least bit apologetic. She grinned up at him and he narrowed his eyes.

Like it physically pained him, he stepped away from her, nodding to the bed. “Lay back.”

Oliver stepped out of his sweats and grabbed two pillows. Felicity lifted herself up a bit, pulling her body more towards the center of the bed again, as much as she could. The hunger in his eyes was intense, heady, and it made her mouth dry as his cock swelled with need.

“Do we…” Felicity slid her hand between her legs and gasped when she felt the ample wetness there. “Oh wow, you weren’t kidding.”

“No,” Oliver said, shaking his head, his voice low. “I wasn’t. Here…” He brushed her hand out of the way and leaned down, sliding his arm under her hips, slipping the two pillows underneath her, propping her up and open for him. He stood back, his eyes between her legs, his hand mindlessly finding his cock without a thought, making her groan. “I’ll… grab some just in case.”

“What?” Felicity asked, almost dazed, and only when he leaned over to his nightstand and took out the lubricant did she realize what he was talking about. “Oh. Right.”

“I really don’t think we’ll need it,” Oliver whispered, climbing on the bed, dropping the bottle within reach. He slipped a hand between her legs and groaned. “Fuck, Felicity…”

“Oliver,” she whispered, grabbing him. “I need you inside me. I need you to be in me. _Now_.”

He nodded rapidly, crawling over her, his hands moving to her legs, pressing them open, spreading her for him.

“Yes, yes,” she gasped over and over, nodding, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, gripping him tightly before sliding one hand up the back of his neck and into his hair, making him shiver. “Make love to me… love me… Oliver…”

“Oh god,” he moaned, his eyes falling shut. His hips moved, his body moving, and she imagined him slipping through her natural wetness, sliding against her… he thrust in, just slightly, taking his time, making sure she was ready for him. And she must have been because the next second he let go of her legs, let them fall open around him and he grabbed her, holding her close as he thrust into her completely. “Oh… god!”

Felicity cried out along with him, her body coming to life with an awareness she only felt when he was deep inside her. He pulled out and thrust back in, and the only way she knew was because he practically shoved her up the bed… he did it again, and again, pulling out and pushing back in with each force to move her, to send amazing vibrations skating over every inch of her.

That warmth was back, that warmth deep inside her, and she squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating on it as they clung to each other, as Oliver whispered mindlessly, so used to describing what he was feeling and doing it was practically second nature now, “You feel so good, so wet, so _tight_ … remember… remember how full you felt, do you remember how full you feel when I’m inside you like this, so deep… so good, god, you feel so good… Felicity…”

Felicity nodded, hearing him, remembering… concentrating on the heat…

It was growing… but it wasn’t… going anywhere, it wasn’t… it stopped, it just… stopped. 

It was _there_ , but it wasn’t… building anymore, it just _stopped_.

She cried out, half in a pleasure-laced haze and half in frustration because this was different, this wasn’t like the other times, this felt… more, it was more, more intense, more _present_ , but she couldn’t…

“Oliver, I’m… I’m so close… Please, I need… _Oliver_ … I need…”

She didn’t know what to ask for, she didn’t know what she needed… but he heard her.

Oliver hiked his knee up, she felt it because she suddenly jerked higher up on the bed and then his hand slid down her side, making her shiver almost violently… down, down her hip and her leg, at least that’s what she thought… 

He pulled her leg up, pressing it closer to her chest, changing the angle of his thrusts and the simmer jumped to a full boil. The angle of her hips, the fact that he was probably stimulating her g-spot even if her brain wasn’t supposed to know that anymore, the way the muscles in his arm bulged with the tension of giving her what she needed vaulted her pleasure to where it was before, when he’d been touching her back.

“Yes! Oh god, yes, yes…!”

White noise filled her ears and little pinpricks started in her fingertips, spreading up her arms as another series of them danced up her abdomen, awakening that sensitive skin…

It was growing, growing…

“Please…” she begged as Oliver thrust into her, his cries growing louder and louder. She was so close, so close, she needed… 

Oliver hooked her leg over his arm, his thrusts starting to lose all rhythm as he gripped her hip… and then he slid it up, right where she could feel _everything_. Without warning, he moved, his lips landing on her chest, going down, down…

He sucked her nipple into his mouth, trapping it between his teeth, simultaneously sucking just as he flicked his tongue over, thrusting into her, shoving her up the bed. 

“Oh god!” Felicity screamed, that beautiful pleasure climbing to a peak…

And then it exploded deep inside her, radiating through her in a sea of sparks that sent her flying. It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced - the pleasure flew through her, through every _inch_ of her, coming from everywhere and going anywhere all at the same time. 

It was _everywhere_.

Something pulsated deep inside her, sending the waves higher, sending _her_ higher, and she knew she was yelling, knew she was clinging to Oliver for dear life as he thrust into her over and over, chasing his own pleasure…

With a hoarse shout, Oliver came, jerking against her in rough thrusts as he filled her with his seed, spurting into her, coating her from the inside out.

The next thing Felicity was aware of was Oliver’s ragged breath against her neck. His mouth hovered over her pulse point, his heart pounding against her chest. Both of them were covered in a thin sheen of sweat, a shared heat. Her hand shook as she slowly lifted it to thread her fingers through his damp hair… softer this time, not pulling, not needing.

Oliver was shaking too, his entire body, because he was keeping most of his weight off her, but Felicity knew he didn’t want to move, he didn’t want to leave her and break the spell, or try to put into words what was beyond indescribable.

Felicity pressed her face to his, kissing his cheek, his temple, his ear, anything she could reach.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I love you, Oliver.”

“I love you too,” Oliver breathed, kissing her neck. Even the muscles along his back trembled. “Are you okay?”

Felicity smiled, a ghost of a smile because that was all she had the energy for. That, and a nod. “I’m okay. I’m so okay. I’m so, so okay.”

Oliver caught her eye and her heart skipped a beat. Would that ever stop happening?

“You came,” he said in a soft voice that half asked, half remembered. 

“Yes.” Felicity ‘s abdomen clenched at the memory. She couldn’t look away from him. He was so serious, so intent on knowing _everything_. “Oh, Oliver, it was… amazing. Wow. So much wow.”

Oliver chuckled, shaking his head in minute disbelief the way he did, like he could live a hundred years and still be surprised at the joy of feeling her in his arms. “That _was_ amazing. Very, very… very amazing.”

“I love you,” she whispered again, pulling his face down so she could kiss him. Her eyes burned with tears for a quick second as a surge of emotion overwhelmed her. “Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

“Always,” he sighed. “Always. I love you. Felicity…always.”

“I love you.”

It took a few minutes for Oliver to pull out of her and to find the energy to get back up. He pulled the pillows out from underneath her, making a little face - _“Dry-cleaning”_ \- before heading into the bathroom with a whispered, “I’ll be right back.”

Felicity lay back on the bed, letting her hand drift over her oversensitive body.

“Wow,” she said under her breath. “Wow.”

_Wow._

She heard him moving around in the bathroom, heard him cleaning up and then he was back out, carrying a small basin with two washcloths and a towel. Spreading the towel beneath her, he cleaned her up, being gentle, taking his time. Felicity watched him with heavy-lidded eyes as her heart rate finally returned to normal. 

Oliver looked up at her every chance he got. Sometimes he was concerned - she couldn’t tell him if he was too rough - but once she caught the look of the eager boy that always wanted to please her, and then he glanced up with the confidence of the man who knew he had. 

Once he was done, he patted her dry, dropping a kiss on her inner thigh before leaning up to kiss her stomach where she _could_ feel it, and then he checked her over, making sure he hadn’t hurt her, hadn’t rubbed too hard or done something she couldn’t tell him about…

“You look good,” he said, giving her a quiet smile.

“So do you,” she quipped, and he laughed.

He put everything away and came back wearing a new pair of sweats with clothes for her. He helped her get dressed and then picked her up, leaning over so she could pull the comforter back before setting her down.

“Do you want to do the catheter tonight?” he asked as he wheeled her chair over so it was within reach for her.

“No,” she said, shaking her head sleepily. “I’ll be getting up in a few hours anyway to do it. I can already feel my internal clock setting itself for 1 a.m.”

He settled in on his side of the bed and then he pulled her into his arms, turning so he was cuddled into her as much as she was into him. He yawned, his jaw cracking, and then rested his head on her shoulder, dropping a kiss on her cheek.

“If you need help…”

“I know,” she whispered with a smile. She kissed his forehead and nuzzled him a little with her nose and lips until he gripped her tighter with a little humming sound. “I love you.”

“Love you, Felicity.”

They fell asleep wrapped around each other, and Felicity drifted off into deep, dreamless sleep, hoping he would have the same, that he would have peace. 

That they would find that in each other, again and again…

Forever. 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/138585144529/shadows-in-the-light-no-need-to-hide-olicity)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed our souls.


	49. Big Toe (post-4x10)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous: I wish you would write a fic where Felicity harnesses her inner Kill Bill-ness amd is staring at her feet like "wiggle your big toe," and what do you know, it works. And then she goes back to not being paralyzed no mores.

The water was starting to cool, the bubbles slowly fading away until there was nothing left but a filmy layer, making everything underneath the surface look murky… everything but her foot, her foot that was currently propped on the edge of the tub.

Felicity stared at her toe.

Her toe stared back.

She’d lifted her leg out of the water a few minutes ago, long enough that it was mostly dry, letting the bathroom lights highlight the luminescent pink on her toenails.

It wasn’t moving.

“Wiggle your big toe.”  


Nothing.

“Wiggle. Your. Big. Toe.”  


The power of the mind was an actual thing, she’d done her research; it was amazing what the mind could achieve on its own, if someone channeled the right _stuff_ … and it also helped that she’d recently gotten yet another injection of the special nanites Curtis had cooked up for the specific job of repairing the nerve damage in her spine. She was already walking a fine line because the potential side effects of taking too many doses - ha, taking _one_  dose, much less four - weren’t great, and she was getting more than a little frustrated. If channeling her inner Beatrix was what she needed to do, well then… that’s what she was going to do.

“Wiggle your big toe.”  


It didn’t move.

Felicity took a deep breath, narrowing her eyes. Oliver was due back soon, and she’d told him she’d be out and ready for dinner when he got back with the Thai - mostly because _food_ , she was _hungry_  - but she wasn’t moving, not until _it_  moved.

“Wiggle your big toe.”  


It _moved_.

“Oh!” Felicity breathed, sitting up so abruptly bathwater sloshed over the side of the tub. “Oh, oh, oh my god!”

It moved _again._

“Oh my god!” Felicity yelped, just as the sound of Oliver opening the front door sounded. “Oh my god!”  


“Felicity?”  


“Oliver!”  


Bags hitting the ground was quickly followed by his heavy footsteps and in the next second he was in the bathroom, nearly toppling over her wheelchair in his haste. “What, what is it, are you okay?”

“C’mere, c’mere!” she said, waving her hands at him. Felicity grabbed his arm and yanked him down, almost right into the bath, before she pointed at her foot. “Watch.”  


For a second, nothing happened. They both held their breath, although she was pretty sure Oliver was mostly humoring her as they waited, and just as he shifted, taking a deep breath to surely ask her what the hell she was doing… her toe _moved_.

Oliver’s jaw dropped. 

Her squeals echoed through the bathroom as she threw her arms around his neck. “It wiggled, it wiggled!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/138526751704/i-wish-you-would-write-a-fic-where-felicity)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul.


	50. Done This Before (post-4x10)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous: I wish you would write a fic where after she comes home from the hospital, Oliver is the one who changes Felicity's dressings/gauze and cleans her incisions. And he hates causing her pain so he's as gentle as possible. And/or maybe the doctor showing him how to do it, and the doctor looks at oliver and is like, have you done this before?

“You okay?”  


Felicity smiled, turning to look back at him over her shoulder from where she was sprawled out face-down on the couch. Oliver was perched on the coffee table, his hands hovering over one of the many still-healing incisions along her spine, his eyes on her. 

“I’m very okay,” she said.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he said, rubbing his hands together to warm them up - she’d already told him that wasn’t even necessary, he ran hotter than a furnace on a good day, but she wasn’t exactly going to argue because his heated fingers felt good, very good… so good as he got back to cleaning out another incision, gently re-applying a thin layer of gauze.  


He worked methodically, taking his time, being so gentle and careful that she barely felt him. In fact he was being _so_  gentle and careful that she didn’t realize she was dozing off until the doorbell rang.

“Hm, what?” Felicity asked, pushing herself up, but Oliver’s hand on her naked back stopped her.

“You stay right there, I’ll be right back,” he said, tugging a warm blanket over her.  


“Not like I can really go anywhere anyway,” she murmured, settling back on the couch, her eyes slipping shut again. “Ain’t no time for the cha-cha when sleep is here… and fiances with really warm hands… great hands…”  


She was slipping back under when Oliver came back.

“Hey… Felicity, honey, the doctor’s here.”  


“What?” Felicity frowned, blinking herself back to awareness, absently thinking that next time Oliver cleaned her incisions, it’d upstairs where she could pull him down with her for an impromptu nap. His words caught up with her. “Doctor?”

“Yeah, remember we asked her to come by to show us how to take care of your wounds here.”  


“Oh. Right,” Felicity said, nodding. She’d been out of town, offering to make a special house call for them. The blanket was still wrapped around her and she turned, smiling sleepily up at Dr. Weiif. “Hi.”  


“Hi, Felicity,” Dr. Weiif  said with a warm smile. “How are you feeling?”  


“Fine,” she replied. “Great, very great. Good hands in this place, good hands.”  


Oliver chuckled. “I was already cleaning her incisions out.”

“Oh,” Dr. Weiif said, and Felicity didn’t have to see her to hear the frown in her voice. “I wish you would’ve waited for me.”  


“Sorry,” Oliver instantly said, moving out of the way as Dr. Weiif took his place on the coffee table. “I’ve, uh… sorry.”  


“It’s quite alright. I just like to make sure it’s the best we can do for our girl here.” She touched Felicity’s shoulder through the blanket. “Can I move the blanket, Felicity?”  


“Yep,” Felicity said, nodding. Dr. Weiif moved the blanket just enough to see the incisions. Her nails were soft and blunt as she peeled up one of the gauze layers and… then she paused. Felicity lifted her head to look back. “What?”  


But Dr. Weiif was looking up at Oliver. “You’ve done this before.”

Oliver smiled. “Yeah. A few times.”

“More than a few times, I’d wager.”  


“A few,” he said with a tight smile.  


“Well then,” the doctor said, pressing the gauze back in place. “I guess my little training session isn’t needed after all.” She checked the rest of the wounds still, noting with a pleased hum that they were healing nicely. As she reapplied the last of the dressing, she pulled the blanket back over Felicity’s back before patting her arm. “You’re in very good hands, my dear.”  


“I know,” Felicity replied, looking back, her eyes catching Oliver’s. His face softened at whatever he saw on hers. “I definitely know.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/138529799959/i-wish-you-would-write-a-fic-where-after-she-comes)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul.


	51. You Have A Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous: Omg idk if ur taking prompts or not but I would love if u could write a one shot or something of like felicity finding out about william from her dad and her and oliver fight and break up :( (it hurts but ANGST!!!!!!)

“You… have a son.”  


Felicity stared at the pictures on the table. Every few seconds they blurred, the images running together in a messy mosaic of color before she blinked the tears away, and then she saw them again. She saw Oliver in a park with a little boy; Oliver at a house, a beautiful house, sitting on the porch steps with the little boy as a young woman looked on with a quiet look on her face; Oliver grinning as the little boy jumped in the air to reach his hand for a high five; Oliver… with his son.

_His son._

He was quiet. He’d been quiet since he walked into the loft, talking about the campaign and how Palmer Tech’s sudden infusion of life in their stocks was reflecting in the polls… he’d walked over to her, not looking at the table, his hand falling on her shoulder as he kissed the top of her head…

When she’d stiffened, her eyes slipping shut… that was when he’d seen them.

Oliver sat across from her, staring at the pictures, looking like he was in just as much shock as she was.

He swallowed. “How…?”

His voice was rough, and she didn’t have to look up to know he was fighting tears himself.

“Does it matter?” Felicity asked. 

Her finger drifted out, touching the corner of one of the photos, of the one where he’s clearly talking to the woman as he plays with the little boy… the woman who was obviously the kid’s mother.  


How old was he? Nine? Ten?

“Was it your dad?” Oliver asked quietly.  


Felicity closed her eyes, her shoulders falling with exhaustion. “That is so beyond the point, Oliver.”

“God, Felicity,” he breathed, leaning his elbows on the table, burying his face in his hands before looking at her again, his eyes red. “He’s trying to drive us apart, that is all he’s been doing, ever since-”  


“No,” she said sharply, cutting him off. Her voice carried through the loft. She shook her head in disbelief. “Oliver…  


“You have a son.” 

A tiny incredulous laugh slipped past her lips. She looked back at the photos.

“Were you even going to tell me?”  


“I wanted to.”  


“But you didn’t.”  


“I… I _couldn’t_. Samantha asked me not to.”  


“Samantha,” Felicity repeated, but Oliver went on.  


“She told me I couldn’t see William…”

_William._

“… if I told anyone - _anyone_ , Felicity - about him, because she didn’t want… my life here to… to… taint his.”  


“Oh. Right,” Felicity said slowly, nodding. “She didn’t want your life here tainting his… Yeah, I guess I could see that. I mean, because _lying_ is so much better than telling the truth.”  


“I didn’t lie to you.”  


“Oliver, all you’ve been doing is lying to me. How… how long…” It hit her and a shocked noise fell from her throat. “Central City. When we went to Central City, you were different. You were different, and you said you were going to check something out.” Felicity stared at him. “This. This is what you were checking out.”  


“Yes.”  


He didn’t hesitate.

“All this time, all the trips to Central City, when you were supposedly helping Barry…” Felicity paused. “Barry knows.”  


“Yes. He… he helped me with the paternity test.”  


“Oh wow.” Felicity pushed away from the table. “Wow. _Wow_.”  


“Felicity…” he said, standing up, moving to step around the table to follow her but she held her hand up and he instantly stopped.  


“No,” she said, taking a shaky breath, her mind _spinning_  out of control. No, it wasn’t out of control, it was… empty. It was like her head was filled with white noise, nothing but white noise, empty white noise. “I think… I think you should… not be here, right now.”

“Felicity,” Oliver breathed and when he moved towards her again, she caught the thin shimmer of tears in his eyes but she just shook her head. He stopped again, clenching his jaw.

He didn’t leave.

For the first time since her dad had shown her those photos, she felt _something:_

 _Anger_.

“Oliver, please,” she said, closing her eyes as she pushed herself back, away from him. “I really want to be alone.”  


“Felicity…”

“ _Please_.”  


After a moment, a long heavy moment where nether of them moved, neither of them spoke… they barely breathed.

He finally took a stuttering breath… and then he turned away from her, his steps barely audible as he made his way to the door, opening and shutting it so quietly it was like he’d never been there as he left, leaving her alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/138655818324/omg-idk-if-ur-taking-prompts-or-not-but-i-would)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul.


	52. I Have To Tell You Something (post-4x08)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Season 4 fix-it fic, post 4x08. Oliver tells Felicity about William much sooner than in canon.

(I’m choosing to live in a little world of delusion where the second they got home from Central City, after they cleaned up from Savage’s attack and they were laying in bed, wrapped around each other, Oliver whispered,)  


**“I have to tell you something.”**

His voice is full of trepidation, worry and concern marring the quiet in the room, but it’s not the only thing: _fear_. He’s scared, out of his mind; it’s the kind of fear that you feel in your bones, that makes you feel like every single bit of you is being torn apart because _what if_ …

_What if…_

It’s dark, the only light in their room coming from the city outside their window. He feels her stiffen, only slightly, and he knows without a single doubt that she knew something was wrong, the entire time… and that she’d trusted him to tell her.

And he hadn’t.

The fear is a living thing inside him, slowly choking him, squeezing his chest until he can barely breathe…

He almost says,  _“Nothing.”_

_Almost._

He can’t let it control him anymore, he won’t, not his actions or his future. God, for as long as he can remember, he’s lived his life in fear. It’s driven his actions, for _years_ , long before the island, before the Gambit ever went down… and he can’t do it anymore. He finally has someone in his life who knows him, who he can trust with anything and everything, including the kind of man he is, someone he can rely on, someone he can _lean_ on… and he trusts her to keep this secret.  


Because there is no other choice to make.

Oliver holds her closer, his eyes slipping shut, steeling himself.

“You’re kinda freaking me out a little bit here,” she whispers, and he takes a shaky breath, knowing she’s trying to make light of it, just a little, because she knows him, she knows he’s struggling… and he loves her all the more for it.

He presses his face into her hair, breathing her in… and starts.

“When we were in Central City, I saw… a woman that I had known a long time, a very long time ago.”  


She’s quiet. 

He feels her heartbeat pick up.

“She had a little boy with her,” he continues, his voice cracking, and she stops breathing. “Felicity…

“I have a son.”

Silence.

Felicity says nothing, for what Oliver quickly starts to consider the longest second of his entire goddamn life - what happens now? What if she’s upset, angry with him, pushes him away for lying to her, for keeping this from her, for trying to keep this from her? And he just did exactly what Samantha asked him not to… what if she finds out, what if tries to keep William from him?

The mere idea of that is enough to take his breath away and he holds onto her a little tighter.

 _Please_ …

Felicity finally takes in a quick breath and sits up, her movements jerky and uneven as she pushes back, away from him. 

Tears burn his eyes before he can think twice and he moves to follow her, the apologies already on his tongue when she spins around and turns the light on.

Oliver blinks as the sudden light pierces through the darkness and he props himself up on his arm, his other hand still reaching for her, but falling short. 

Felicity grabs her glasses, taking another breath before turning to look at him.

“You have a son,” she repeats slowly.  


“Yeah,” he whispers, nodding. He looks up at her where she’s sitting next to him. His elbow starts to hurt from leaning on it but he ignores it.

She’s quiet again, for a long minute, and he can read her like a book - he sees the second she reaches a conclusion, and it sends his heart plummeting.

“And you weren’t going to tell me,” Felicity says, her voice so soft it’s barely audible. She stares at him. “Were you?”  


The hurt in her voice is like a knife slicing through him, and he closes his eyes for a second, biting his tongue, before nodding.

“She asked me not to. His mother. Samantha.” Oliver sits up, pushing himself back to sit against the headboard. “Not just you, but everyone. Anyone. She said… she told me… I wouldn’t be able to see William, if I told anyone.”  


“Wow,” she says… and then follows it up with a soft, almost reverent, “William.”

Oliver closes his eyes… and waits…

Felicity grabbing his face and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead has them flying open again, finding hers.

“Wow,” is all she can say, and he sees the tears in her eyes… and the hint of a smile on her lips.  


All he’s capable of is a nod.

“It seems Central City was pretty busy for you.”

An incredulous laugh slips out of him before he can stop it. “You could say that.” Oliver’s hands come up, cradling her forearms. “Felicity, I’m sorry. You were the first person I thought of, the first person I wanted to tell when I… when it was confirmed.”  


“And… it is?” she asked. “Confirmed?”  


“Yeah.”  


Felicity nods, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. 

And then she looks at him.

“Tell me about it.”  


Oliver stares at her for a beat. “You’re not…”

“Oh no, we’re gonna have words, about some of the choices you made, don’t think you’re getting off that easy, mister.” He gives her a breathy chuckle, or maybe it’s more a sigh of relief than anything. She holds him tighter, her thumbs running over his cheeks. “But you told me…” 

Felicity smiles.

“You told me, Oliver, and now… now I want you to tell me about it. If you want, I mean, I’m not trying to insert myself where I’m not-”

“I want to,” Oliver assures her, sliding his hands down her arms. “I want to.”  


And he does.

He tells her everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/139525854944/i-have-to-tell-you-something-olicity-season-4)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul.


	53. Pinching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A 4+1 fic spanning Season 4 where Oliver pinches Felicity. Prompt - Anonymous: BRE HE PINCHED HER HAHAH for some reason I need a small dabble of him pinching her in the ass for some odd reason

_**Ivy Town** _

She. Hated. Aerobics.

Who in the hell came up with the fun idea of jumping around \- no, _throwing_ yourself around - to music that went too fast with instructors who were way too perky?

They weren’t human. They were robots, aerobics instructor robots, built to make people feel feeble and weak about themselves.

Felicity bent over, ignoring the music as the end credits ran, trying to catch her breath. She leaned on her knees, bowing her head, crinkling her nose at the sweat literally dripping off her and onto the carpet.

She didn’t hear him behind her, didn’t hear him where he’d entered the living room, where he’d paused at the entrance to the kitchen, cocking his head, watching her. She didn’t hear him moving so freakishly silently that he could sneak up on a ninja, nor did she think twice about leaning further over, stretching out her hamstrings…

Oliver pinched her ass.

“Ow, hey!” Felicity jerked up and spun around, whacking his arm. He laughed, dodging her next hit. “That’s not funny, I’m all sweaty and gross… and _tired_. My butt is not in the mood for pinching, Oliver!”

“You are definitely not sweaty or gross,” he replied, grabbing her hand out of the air, yanking her against his chest. He kissed her, his smile never going away, humming when he tasted her sweat. “Nope, definitely not gross.”

“And what about my butt, was it nice and sweaty, and definitely not gross? Because let me tell you, it doesn’t feel…”

Oliver cut her off with a kiss and suddenly leaned down, sliding his hands under her ass, picking her up off the ground. He lifted her up, forcing her to wind her legs around his waist as his hands moved, squeezing her ass, making her laugh.

Her giggles slowly descended into soft moans as she held onto him, his movements pressing her closer to him. Felicity rotated her hips, making them both moan when they felt her heat.

Oliver squeezed her ass again, making her jerk.

“Your ass,” he whispered, his voice heavy with lust, “feels _amazing.”_

Felicity laughed, before kissing him, a kiss he readily returned.

Oliver tried to make it upstairs, but it was too far. He tried to make it to the couch that was literally five feet away but even that was too much effort. After banging his knee into the coffee table, he gave up and tugged her down to the floor, stripping her pants off, showing her just how amazing she was.

_**Salmon Ladder** _

The clang of the salmon ladder was mocking her.

Or Oliver was mocking her.

Felicity wasn’t entirely sure, but she was positive there was _some_  mocking going on because he was doing the salmon ladder with his sister right there, who was talking to her about… something or other, she wasn’t exactly sure. 

She’d turned Thea out the second she heard that telltale clang… and the rest of the clangs, all the clangs, every single clang, her mind knowing exactly what she’d see if she looked back towards the workout area, where she knew she had the perfect view of the salmon ladder, where she’d be able to see muscles and sweat and…

“Felicity.”   


“Yeah, what?” she asked, looking at Thea. She blinked. “What?”   


The clanging had stopped, she realized.

Thea just smirked, rolling her eyes.

“A little distracted?” Oliver asked, slightly out of breath, coming up behind them. He had a towel in hand and was wiping his face, a tiny smile on his lips, telling her he knew exactly what she was thinking.   


“No, no distractions, just…” Felicity pointed at her head. “Thinking. About the… power outages. Glitches. Whatever.”   


Thea hummed knowingly, turning back to the blueprints they’d been looking at as Oliver leaned over on Felicity’s other side, giving her a chaste kiss… but that wasn’t all he did. He hovered for a second, and she could feel the waves of heat coming off him from all his exertion, and if she closed her eyes, she knew she’d be able to imagine exactly what he tasted like if she leaned forward and licked…

“Next time I’ll make sure it’s just you,” he whispered.

Felicity rolled her eyes, about to tell him that was stupid when his hand snaked around her waist and he pinched her ass, making her jump with a sharp, “Oliver!”   


He gave her a wink before moving towards the showers.

_**Green Arrow** _

Oliver bowed his head, letting it hang as Laurel and Diggle left.

It’d been a long night, a very long night, full of bad guys and disappointing leads regarding Damien Darhk, and she could read it all over him…

He was tired.

And still wearing his suit.

Felicity pressed her lips together, her eyes on the green leather encasing his ass. She quickly averted them when he moved, looking up at him when he looked at her.

Oliver gave her a soft smile. “Ready to go?”

“Yep,” Felicity replied, nodding.

Oliver nodded, saying, “Okay. I’m gonna go change,” as he turned around to head towards the lockers.

Felicity bit her bottom lip, her hand sneaking out…

She pinched his ass.

Oliver instantly stopped and looked back at her with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” Felicity asked with a grin, and like it was contagious, she watched one spread over his face as he chuckled, turning back to her. “You look really good in those pants.”

Oliver licked his lips, leaning over her, and she was pleased to see the stress melt right off him as he moved so his lips brushed over hers, just enough to feel them but not actually kissing her, not yet.

“Wait until they’re off,” he whispered with a salacious wink.

“You know,” Felicity started. She cupped his heavy bulge through his pants, making him inhale sharply. He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes narrowing. “Why wait?”

And then she unzipped his pants.

_**Favorite Skirt** _

“Wait, hang on a second…”   


Felicity paused, looking back at Oliver where he was trailing behind her. He had a look of pure concentration on his face, his brow furrowed, his lips pursed as he crouched down next to her. He cocked his head, almost frowning, his eyes on her waist and she found herself frowning.

“What is it?” she asked, twisting to see what he was looking at.   


“It’s just…” 

Oliver bit his lip and slipped his hand between her and the back of her wheelchair, making her inhale sharply - she was quickly learning how _sensitive_  she was since her injury; they were _both_ learning it, with delightful enthusiasm.   


And now he was moving his hand down her back, making it hard to breathe as he switched between touching areas she could feel and areas she couldn’t, almost like he was… smoothing something out? 

It was her first day back at the office, and she’d spent a painful amount of time both finding the right outfit that worked with her wheelchair and something that still said she was a damn professional.

He was not _helping._

“Oliver…”   


“Just saw a wrinkle,” he said vaguely, his hand moving back down.

It took her far too long to realize what he was doing and when she did, she smacked him.

“Oliver!”   


He chuckled, his hand stopping, still pressed right against her ass as he looked up at her.

“What?”   


“Don’t start something unless you’re gonna finish it,” she said.   


“Okay,” he said.

Felicity felt his hand moving again and she smacked him again, making him laugh as she said, “If I’m late for work because my fiancé couldn’t keep his hands off my ass, what does that say about me?”   


“It says you’re someone who appreciates thoroughness,” Oliver replied with a lascivious smile. “It’s not my fault your ass is so pinchable, especially in that skirt.” He narrowed his eyes. “You know how much I love this skirt.”   


She couldn’t help the little laugh that slipped out - oh yes, she knew, and she’d by lying if she didn’t admit that was part of why she’d chosen it, because seeing the way his eyes lit up made her feel better - before she hit his arm again, batting him away.

With a wink, he took his hand back. Felicity grabbed him before he could get away, pulling him closer. She cupped his face and kissed him with a whispered, “Thank you.”

Oliver grinned against her lips, whispering back, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”   


_**Nice Ass** _

Felicity caught him approaching the bed from the corner of her eye where she laid on her stomach, scrolling through her tablet. She glanced up to give him a smile, looking up just in time to see him lean over and pinch her ass.

She didn’t feel it - she couldn’t feel it - but she _saw_ it, and that was more than enough for her to push herself up a bit more and give him a scandalous look with a, “Hey!”

“You can’t honestly expect me to behave myself when you’re laying like that,” Oliver replied, dropping down on his side. The bed bounced slightly and she turned to face him. He grabbed his notebook, pausing when he saw her staring at him. Oliver shrugged, pointing at her legs. “Especially in those pants.”

“ _These_ are sexless pants,” Felicity replied, waving at the plain black yoga pants she was wearing.

Oliver snorted. “Nothing on you is sexless, Felicity.”

“This blanket is sexless,” she said, waving at the blanket draped over her legs. “I challenge you to find a less sexy blanket. This blanket says, ‘Hey, you’re chilly, let me warm your legs,’ it doesn’t say, ‘Let me sex you up.’”

“Felicity,” Oliver said, closing his book and tossing it to the foot of the bed before he turned onto his side, facing her. “You could be wearing a garbage bag, and it’d be the sexiest garbage bag I’d ever seen.”   


“I don’t know,” she mused, “there are some pretty wrecked garbage bags out there.” 

Oliver grinned, cocking his head, moving his hand deliberately so she saw it, resting it on her ass. He squeezed it, massaging it, and even though she couldn’t feel it like she used to, she could definite see the way it made him feel and it was almost as heady, almost as intense.

Her voice was a little more breathless as she continued, “I mean, it could be covered in rotten fruit or something, and we all know rotten fruit is gross.”   


“It doesn’t matter,” he replied, scooting closer. His hand drifted away from her ass and up her spine. The second she felt his fingers drifting over her lower back, she shivered, her eyes slipping shut. He lingered there, taking his time, knowing exactly what he was doing and how it made her feel. “Covered in rotten fruit, or dirt, or wearing supposedly sexless pants… you will always be sexy as hell.”   


Felicity smiled.

“And I will always pinch your ass,” he said, his hand disappearing to do just that before he kissed her, sliding his hand up her shirt. He gently pinched the skin right where he knew she was the most sensitive, making her gasp. “And every other part of you that I can reach.”   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/139557473304/bre-he-pinched-her-hahah-for-some-reason-i-need-a)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul.


	54. Happily Ever After (S4 spec)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olicity wedding spec fic, if Cupid had kidnapped Felicity. (Based on [Cupid's Crazy Plan](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/139917146724/cupids-crazy-plan)? by [sharingmyworld](http://sharingmyworld.tumblr.com/post/139916227881/cupids-crazy-plan)

Felicity stared at the ground, her lips pressed together tightly. Every ounce of her concentration was on a tiny crack in the tiled floor. Dirt was crammed into the space, making it look rusty and aged against the soft pink, which was annoyingly clean in comparison. It was hard to get all the dirt out; no, it was impossible. The second it seeped in, it was stained, forever. It was never going to be as clean and pure as it had been.

She stared at it, because it was easier to think about dirt than the slight tremor in her legs, or the heaviness of her dress, or the dank smell of the ballroom waiting room.

It was easier than thinking about what waited for her on the other side of the double doors.

 _Who_ waited for her.

For a split second, her mind let him sneak in. She imagined what he’d look like, standing at the other side of the hall, waiting for her… she’d pictured it so many times, especially when Curtis had given her the tech at their engagement party, of walking down the aisle towards him, of her own volition… she’d pictured his smile, the pride in his eyes, eclipsed completely by his love and support and warmth and happiness, all mirroring her own…

Except now there was none of that.

It was gone.

Something sharp and cold pricked her bare shoulder and Felicity jumped.

“Come on, bride-to-be,” a saccharine-sweet voice said. Felicity didn’t have to look back to know the other woman was grinning; she could hear it. The sharp arrow poked her again, forcing her forward in a halting step. “Let’s get you to your happily ever after.”

Felicity closed her eyes, steeling herself.

Carrie Cutter had arrived out of the blue one week ago. Nobody knew where she’d come from, how she’d escaped ARGUS, or what she was doing there because for a few days, nothing happened. She didn’t contact Oliver or the Green Arrow, not like they’d expected her to, nor did she attack or kidnap anyone…

Until last Tuesday, when she’d been waiting for Felicity in the apartment Ray had once used at Palmer Tech, the apartment she’d been staying at once she’d gained more control of her legs, leaving the loft to Oliver.

Time, she’d just needed some time. She’d been staying at the office, working on her new project, only seeing Oliver at night, at the lair… she needed _time_ , but it was being taken away from her at every turn.

And now here she was, in a wedding dress she’d had hidden in the back of her closet at the loft - she hadn’t told Oliver about it, only her mother had known. It was supposed to be taken in a bit, to remove the weight that was unnecessary for her wheelchair… an idea that she’d started changing her mind about after Curtis’ gift.

Her hair was up, her makeup done impeccably…

She was _standing_ … waiting…

To walk down the aisle.

Felicity felt like throwing up.

“Why so glum?” Carrie asked, stepping around Felicity’s long train. Felicity didn’t look at her, keeping her eyes on the floor as Carrie cocked her head, keeping the sharp arrow pressed against the back of Felicity’s neck. Carrie grinned. “This is your big day!”

Felicity didn’t reply. She bit the tip of her tongue, staring at the floor.

“Don’t worry,” Carrie continued, leaning down to fluff Felicity’s dress. “You’ll be so happy when you see him.” She laughed abruptly, shaking her head. “Can you believe I almost took this away from you? True love is so rare, so beautiful…” She sighed. “I can’t wait to share this with both of you.”

Her stomach twisted.

“Ready?”

Felicity bit back the immediate, _‘No.’_

Carrie smiled, brushing a stray hair off Felicity’s cheek.

“Great! Let’s go!”

Carrie stepped forward, opening the double doors.

Felicity told herself to not look at him, to not realize that their moment was being tainted, being taken over… but she couldn’t help it.

She looked up, her eyes finding him instantly, and the second their eyes connected, her heart broke.

Not like this, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be of their own volition, surrounded by loved ones and happiness, not with masked men in guns, with Carrie’s arrow constantly pressed at Felicity’s back, a reminder to both of them that she was in control, that one wrong move or dissent meant Felicity would lose more than use of her body.

He was stiff where he stood at the other end of the room with the judge, his hands clenched together tightly in front of him… but his eyes…

Felicity blinked, tears blurring her vision.

Despite what was happening, how it was happening, and everything that’d happened between them since she’d learned about William… it was still there, _they_ were still there. And it made worse, so much worse.

“Buh-buh-badum,” Carrie said, urging Felicity forward…

And she went, taking a lurching step towards what was supposed to be her future… towards a happily ever after that wasn’t theirs.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/139921274799/ficlet-happily-ever-after-olicity-wedding-spec)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul.


	55. On Their Wedding Night... (S4 Spec)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous: Bre, imagine Felicity stripping him out of his suspenders ;) (Let's ignore all the pain that may come from that pic and focus on that because dammmmn.)

Felicity’s been walking for a few months now but it still takes a lot out of her. Despite that, she wanted to spend as much of her wedding night on her own two feet and she did, she was a champ of the highest order. She’s worn out. Oliver knows this, can see it, and knows when she says, “I’m just a little tired, these legs did some serious walking today,” it means she’s completely wiped. 

When it’s time to go home, he picks her up out of her chair, not letting her walk anywhere, and carries her out to the car - which had the “Just Married” placard across the back, at his insistence - amidst the thrown flower petals and happy shouts from their friends and family. 

He holds her in his lap on their way back to the loft, where their bags are already packed for their morning flight - Bali, here they come. The second they get home, he picks her up and carries her inside, bridal style. He carries her upstairs, setting her down gently on the bed, and when she doesn’t let go, Oliver kneels down before her, just like he did when he asked her to marry him - the first _and_  the second time. 

Felicity wraps her legs around him, rejoicing in the simple joy of being able to do it at all (something she’ll do for the rest of her life, she knows what a gift it is). She lips her hands under his jacket.

Her fingers find his suspenders.

“I have been dying to play with these all night,” she whispers. Oliver chuckles. He slips his jacket off, letting it fall to the floor, her hands never leaving his suspenders. She bites her lip in anticipation, running her fingers underneath them before meeting his eye. “I love when my husband wears suspenders.”  


Oliver laughs, a full-bodied laugh that echoes through the entire loft, before leaning forward, kissing her gently.

“I love that my wife loves when I wear suspenders,” he says with a smile that shows how happy he is.

Felicity grins, taking a second to just revel, to bask in the fact that she married him, that she gets to spend the rest of her life with the man she loves with every ounce of her soul… before grabbing his suspenders and falling back on the bed, taking him with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/139937334319/bre-imagine-felicity-stripping-him-out-of-his)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul.


	56. Rest (post-4x15)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He dreams.

His eyes kept slipping shut of their own volition.

Every few seconds, his lids would grow heavy again, start shutting without his permission, and a few seconds later he’d jolt himself awake, his eyes finding the television screen where Mission Impossible played. It wasn’t _that_ late - it was barely nine - but apparently it was late enough.

A minute later, it happened again and when Oliver opened his eyes, he saw he’d missed fifteen minutes of the movie.

Thirty seconds later, it happened again.

“We’re getting old,” Felicity whispered, pulling him out of another dozing spiral. Her voice was thick with sleep, the words slurred where she laid sprawled on top of him on the couch.

Oliver grunted. “We are not.”

“It’s 8:45 and we’re both falling asleep .”

“It was a long day,” he replied, fighting back a yawn. His eyes watered and he blinked the tears away, focusing on the screen again. Damn it, he loved this movie and he was missing all the good stuff.

Felicity yawned. “I did laundry and watched you bake cookies for the neighborhood bake sale.” She shifted, arching her back in a tiny stretch, pressing the full length of her body against his before she settled in again. She nuzzled her face into his chest, taking a deep breath. As she let it out, he felt every muscle in her body relax. It was her turn to snort as she whispered a mocking, “Long day.”

“Mm,” Oliver whispered. “We did bake a lot of cookies though.”

“Mm-hmm,” Felicity managed, sounding like she wasn’t even trying to fight her tiredness.

Oliver finally let his eyes close again. It just felt too good not to.

It was the kind of exhaustion that had quickly become addicting, the kind he let himself indulge in almost every single day, ever since they’d first moved in. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that they owned a home together, or that the Ivy Town neighborhood  had those neighborhood sounds that were comforting - _lulling_ \- or because his biggest worry these days were the weeds that kept growing in the corner of the backyard.

Or maybe it was that his girlfriend was laid out with him, just as tired and just as ready to give into it, her soft, warm body wrapped around his on the extra-large couch they’d found at the mall last week.

Whatever it was, it felt _good_ , and he let himself delight in the fact that the worst thing that could come of falling asleep right now is that he’d miss the ending of a movie he’d seen dozens of times.

Life was good.

Felicity’s little snore told him she agreed.

Oliver wrapped his arms around her, cradling her closer. He turned away from the screen and pushed his face into the couch, snuggling into the warmth of the cushions and his love. He slowly slid his hand up and down her back, following the path of her spine, up and down, before gently pushing his fingers up into her hair. Felicity hummed sleepily, arching her neck to give him more access. He pressed his fingers along the soft ridges of her scalp, threading his fingers through her hair.

Oliver turned just enough to kiss the top of her head.

“Love you,” he whispered into her hair, his hand sliding to her ear. He rubbed it between his fingers, just how she liked, and she hummed again, pressing herself closer, her body relaxing even more.

“Love you,” she breathed as she fell asleep.

Oliver held her, letting himself slip under slower, reveling in the feeling of her in his arms. He’d never get sick of the way her light and love wrapped around him, cocooning him, completing him…

Life wasn’t just good. No, it was _amazing_ , beyond amazing, and he knew if he could have just this in his life, if he could hold her like this for even just a minute every single day, he knew he could get through anything, no matter what…

*

Oliver woke with a start.

He opened his eyes blearily, blinking at the ceiling.

He was at the loft.

It was cold and dark, the moon barely shining through the thick cover of clouds outside, the light muted and dull where it did come through.

Oliver frowned. He barely remembered getting there, much less making his way upstairs.

He hadn’t been there since…

Oliver shivered, realizing he was still on the edge of the bed where he’d fallen back after sitting down, half-undressed,  too tired to do anything but sleep, to give into the exhaustion lining his bones, the exhaustion he’d been pushing himself through for the last several days. He’d gone until he couldn’t anymore, until the world blurred around him, until he could do nothing but lay down and rest… rest like he used to, with…

Without a second thought, his hand shot out - to her side - with a rough, “Felicity?”

But she wasn’t there.

Her side was empty, cold.

The sheets were still in place where he’d made the bed that morning, the morning when everything had gone wrong.

Oliver closed his eyes.

He was too tired to feel the pain that filled his stomach with lead, too tired to do anything but sit up, force himself to stand and stumble downstairs. He was too tired to look at where her wheelchair still sat by the table, where she’d left it when she’d stood up, walking away from him. He was too tired to do anything but fall on the couch and curl up, pressing his face into the cushions, taking a deep breath.

They smelled like her.

Oliver shivered again, but he didn’t get up to put on a shirt or grab a blanket or turn on the fireplace. He stayed right where he was, wrapping his arms around himself.

He didn’t wipe away the tear that fell, or unclench his teeth when they started to ache as the pain in his chest grew, spreading through him.

The loft was cold and dark, empty without her.

_He_ was empty without her.

Oliver closed his eyes, feeling the tug of exhaustion, the lure of the dark oblivion he’d found a few minutes ago… but it was gone.

He was too tired to do anything but lay there, unable to sleep, unable to do anything but remember the last time he’d laid on the couch with her… the last time he’d been able to sleep, the last time he’d known peace, the last time he’d been happy…

And to wonder if he’d let the best thing in his life walk away for good.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/141053047939/ficlet-rest-olicity-post-4x15)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul.


	57. Comfort (4x18/4x19 Spec)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity run into each other after Laurel's funeral.

Heels dangling from her hands, Felicity shut down the generators, bathing the bunker in darkness. Patches of green from the offset lights around their suits lit the way towards the elevator, and despite herself, she glanced over.

Her suit was still there.

Felicity pinched her lips together, a tear slipping down her cheek. The delicate skin around her eyes were raw, chafed and painful - just when she thought she was done crying, when she didn’t think she had anything left inside her, there was more… there was always more. The tear only made it hurt more, and it did nothing to stop the others from falling.

She forced herself to look away, taking a shaky breath.

Wiping her cheeks, she moved to the elevators, bare feet padding softly on the floor, so quiet it let her hear the room around her settling - the quiet buzz from the servers, the lights still powering down, the slight creaks from the office upstairs…

And something else.

Felicity stopped, her heart stopping with her.

A sniffle.

She didn’t move. She knew who it was. 

He’d checked in after they’d followed up on Darhk and Malcolm’s movements, all of them needing to do something, needing to act, to not think about what they’d done that morning… about the way the sun had been shining, how everything had been so cold still, how nobody had been able to breathe as the dark box had lowered into the ground…

It’d been the first time she’d been behind her computers in weeks, and every keystroke and swipe of information across her screen was like a knife slicing through her, a reminder that she hadn’t been there, and if she had been, if she’d been doing her usual checks on the team and Malcolm and Damien and…

She would have seen it coming and Laurel would still be alive.

Felicity bit her tongue so hard it bled.

When the trails ran cold, Oliver had said he’d do another sweep and everyone should head home.

She hadn’t even heard him come in.

Things weren’t good between them, and she wasn’t sure they’d ever be good, and the funeral hadn’t helped anything. It’d only emphasized the distance between them, highlighting every little twitch in her fingers to reach out and grab his, every distinct burn when his eyes fell on her, every clench of her jaw to keep herself from looking at him, keeping her eyes glued on the casket.

Her mind told her to keep moving, to let him be, but her heart already had her feet moving in his direction.

Oliver sat in the back near the lockers, on the tiny cot he’d been using since the loft - she hadn’t let herself think about the fact that he didn’t use the loft, that neither of them had wanted to stay there anymore.

His shoulders were hunched, his face tight with a sadness that tore through her.

She moved closer.

His only reaction was his face crumpling slightly. He squeezed his eyes shut, bowing his head.

She knew he would take it the hardest, that he’d blame himself, that he’d carry it all… but none of them had seen it until now. He’d been strong, strong as she knew he would be, over the last day - through the funeral preparations, through Quentin nearly destroying the cases when he saw her suit still hanging, through people asking him if he was alright, through the funeral, and all the way through their patrol.

But there was only so much, and she wasn’t going to let him go through this alone. She couldn’t. What happened between them didn’t exist in this moment. Right now he was someone she loved, and he was in pain.

She went to him.

His next breath was stuttered… and then a sob was quick to follow.

Felicity dropped her shoes and purse on the cot, running her fingers through his hair, cupping the back of his neck as his shoulders started shaking with his cries. Her own tears blurred her vision as she whispered, “Shh,” pressing herself closer, cupping his head.

Oliver reached for her, his arms winding around her hips, moving his face to press into her stomach… before he stopped. He looked up at her, and her chest tightened with grief at the look on his face - he held nothing back, it was all there, _everything_. His regret, his anger, his sadness, his pain… and his _need_ for comfort, a comfort he’d always denied himself, a comfort he’d always inadvertently denied her giving him.

Felicity took a shaky breath and nodded, reaching for him as he reached for her.

It wouldn’t fix anything, it wouldn’t make things between them better, but she wasn’t going to deny him this, not now, not when he needed her.

“C’mere,” she whispered and he went to her.

Oliver pulled her into his lap, pressing his face into her chest, another sob wracking his frame.

They wrapped themselves around each other, his tears already soaking through into her jacket as she pushed her face into his hair, holding him as tightly as he held her, both of them crying, both of them grieving… both of them there for each other in a way they never had been before as they mourned the loss of their friend.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/142245277309/ficlet-comfort-olicity-4x184x19-spec)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul.


	58. Home (post-4x18)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They shared a hug... but there’s more than one way to find your way home.

Oliver stared at the wall, slowly spinning the picture between his fingers. He didn’t have to look at it; he’d memorized every single thing about it so long ago that it was seared into his memory. He couldn’t count how many times he’d looked at during those five years, even when he knew it was nothing more than a ghostly memory of his life before the Gambit went down. He was more surprised it wasn’t as faded as it should be - he’d touched her face so often, trying to remember how her cheek felt, how her hair slid through his fingers.

She was gone. He knew she was gone, but… he just couldn’t…

Oliver stared straight ahead. He was getting cold where he sat on the tiled floor, where his back leaned against the wall in the corner of the waiting room. He didn’t remember leaving her room, he barely remembered Quentin - _god_ , that was like a hole in his chest, the look on the older man’s face; he couldn’t think about it, not yet - and he didn’t remember migrating over to this spot.

He spun the picture, running his thumb over the familiar bent paper, knowing exactly how and when each one came about.

There were no new ones. She’d kept it in pristine condition after he’d given it to her all those years ago.

A fresh surge of tears blurred his vision. He didn’t have the energy to blink them away.

This had to be shock, because he was still feeling… but he was also _numb_.

Laurel was dead.

Oliver’s lungs seized, his gut tightening with grief… and in the next second, it was gone in a wave of dazed disbelief.

He didn’t hear her. He didn’t hear her familiar tread, her heels, the brush of her clothes.

No, the first thing he recognized was her scent:

_Home_.

Felicity sat down next to him. She crouched down in her tight skirt, sliding down the wall until she landed with a little plop, her arm and leg brushing against his. Oliver closed his eyes, his body yearning towards her as he took a deep breath, savoring her scent… her shampoo and the distinct smell that was only Felicity, the one he always sought out like a starved man when he buried his face in her throat, when she used to wrap her arms around him, to hold him…

He couldn’t do that now.

“You should go home.”

_Home._

Oliver’s eyes slid open and he swallowed the words, _‘You are my home,’_ down before they could slip out. A painful lump lodged itself in his throat as he took a deep, shaky breath, letting it out slowly.

“Yeah,” was all he managed.

Home.

Was home the bunker now?

No.

Home… home had been all the quiet moments they’d shared during their summer away. It’d been the late mornings and pancake breakfasts; trying to teach her how to make omelets; grabbing her hand when they walked through the farmer’s market. It’d been Ivy Town, the loft, those few quiet moments they’d managed to steal before everything blew up in their faces… before he’d _let_ them blow up in their faces.

Home had been _her_ , his Felicity.

But he didn’t have her anymore.

For some reason, that thought wasn’t as painful as it once had been.

Was it because Laurel was gone? Was it because another part of his past had slipped through his fingers, another piece that had been so integral to his life gone right before his eyes… except he wasn’t that man anymore, he wasn’t that person. He hadn’t been, for a long, long time. Laurel’s death even two years ago would have crippled him, sent him on a path he knew he’d regret, but now… now he wanted to _live_ , in her honor, for her.

It was jarring, and it had an odd mixture of guilt and relief churning in his gut.

For so long, his home had been in other people, in someone else. On Lian Yu, home was Laurel, home was getting back to her. She’d always been that faraway hope, even when he’d gotten back, that someone he could call home… and then, somehow, at some point, that’d morphed into Felicity.

Except now he’d lost her too.

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe his home wasn’t supposed to be in someone else, maybe he wasn’t supposed put so much of who he was and what he was made of into someone else.

Was that what he was feeling?

Maybe _he_ was his home, he was the place he turned to, the structure that he invited others into. He’d always depended on those around him to be the architectures, to be his safe place… instead of himself. Laurel was gone, and she’d been one of those thing she’d banked on for so long… but he didn’t feel like he was missing any pieces, not like he thought he would.

Oliver sighed, his shoulders slumping.

He didn’t know what the hell he was thinking.

A small headache started blossoming behind his eyes.

“What’s that?”

Her soft voice pulled him back to the moment.

Oliver looked at the picture. A sharp stab of pain took his breath away, but it instantly melted into a something softer. Something warmer.

He was talking before he knew what he was doing.

“This was the picture I had with me on Lian Yu,” he whispered. “Laurel gave it to me before I got on the boat, as something to remember her by until I got back.” His voice cracked. “I kept it with me the entire time, through everything. And for so long, I kept… I looked at it and thought about _home_. She was my home, she was the thing I knew was waiting for me, and if I could just be strong enough, just make it through the hell… I could come home to her.”

Felicity was silent, letting him talk.

“But then… then it became a token of my past. I wasn’t that person anymore. But I still kept it, as a reminder, that I had once had a home, that I’d once had someone I could call home.” Oliver shook his head in wonder. “And then… well, I thought about… I thought that about you too, but I think… I think I’ve been getting it wrong.”

She stopped breathing.

“I put so much on Laurel, _so much_ , and it wasn’t fair to her. And I…”

He stopped himself before saying, _‘I did the same thing to you.’_

Oliver took a deep breath. “I gave it to her when I got back, because I thought maybe since I was back, I could get back to the home I thought I’d created with her.” He ran his finger down the edge of the photo. “I didn’t. We didn’t, but… but she still kept it. Because she…” He laughed quietly. “I’d been her home too, I guess. And we never found that again.”

“I’m sorry,” Felicity whispered.

“I’m not,” Oliver said. And he wasn’t, just like he knew Laurel hadn’t been. He stared at the picture, but he no longer saw it. He saw something else. He saw his future. “I think I’m starting to get it.”

“Get what?”

He didn’t answer. Felicity didn’t push, and he wondered if some part of her knew what he was saying.

She answered that when she reached over, her hand sliding over his until her palm touched his. She laced their fingers together, squeezing his hand tightly.

He squeezed her back.

They sat there, together, quietly, holding each other’s hands, leaning on the other… but still standing on their own.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/142410973209/home-olicity-post-4x18-ficlet)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul.

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


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